Vancouver Waves
by OtherRootVegetable19
Summary: At school, Edward Cullen and Bella Swan exist in entirely different social circles. One chance encounter allows them to see themselves in a new light, however, they agree to keep their budding friendship under wraps. With each harboring their own secrets, the question remains: which one will fall first? AU/AH
1. The Night We Met

Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Twilight Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

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AN: The story starts in May 2010. And thank you to SunflowerFran.

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 **Chapter One: The Night We Met  
**

 **BPOV**

"Okay, okay, I know I say this every time, but he is _so hot_."

It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. The truth is that my best friend, the wonderful Angela Weber, _does_ say it every time we see him, or every time he walks past us. Really, she once said it when she spied his name written on our class list. It's actually a little ridiculous, given that she's never said a word to him.

The poor boy.

"I mean, just look at him."

Despite my stance on the matter, I _do_ look. Angela's not wrong, at least. He's definitely easy on the eyes, all tall and broad, with unruly hair, and mesmerizing green-grey eyes. Wait, did I just use the word 'mesmerizing?'

"It's not even fair," Angela says with a huff. "Nobody should be allowed to look that good... in clothes, no less."

I shake my head, my attention returning to the sandwich in front of me. It's tuna salad, which isn't really my favorite, but Jake brought it for me when he dropped off my denim jacket a little earlier, and I just couldn't say no. It's actually a good thing though, because we're dissecting in Biology next, and nobody needs to know what I ate for lunch when it probably - definitely - comes back up. So I won't eat it.

I pick at the crust of the rye bread, only half-listening to Angela go on about how hot he is. I've told her just to talk to him, in the hopes that she'll get over her crush and we can all get on with our lives. We've been able to deduce that he is, in fact, single, but even I have to admit there's something incredibly standoffish about him.

Edward Cullen is about as approachable as the demon lovechild of a porcupine and a snake. Please don't ask me how the baby-making would work, because I have enough nightmares as it is.

"What do you think he smells like?" Angela asks and, this time, I do roll my eyes.

"Probably like chlorine and the hellfire," I say, and she shoots me a dirty glare. I can't help my laugh. "Seriously, Ange, he probably smells like a normal human boy."

"But he's _not_ a normal human boy."

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. She's probably right though. It's unlikely anybody in this place _is_ normal.

Myself included.

Where are the rest of our friends? I can usually handle Angela's wild thoughts when Jasper's around. And, really, Alice is the one who fuels Angela's obsession with the boy whom we all know doesn't even know any of us exist. Jasper thinks it's because he believes he's better than us; Alice thinks it's because he's friends with Emmett McCarty, but I suspect it's actually because he's in his own little world.

Angela doesn't think anything about it because she's busy planning their future wedding.

No wonder Ben Cheney doesn't sit with us anymore. I'd hate to sit across from the person I have a crush on and watch them pine over someone else. I'm not _that much_ of a masochist, despite what people think. Everyone knows he likes Angela, save for Angela herself. It's quite sad really, but even more so because he made us all promise not to say anything to her.

"Do you know where Jazz and Alice are?" I ask, hoping to distract her.

"They went off campus for lunch," she says, her eyes back on Edward. "The equivalent of date night, seeing as Jasper's got an away game this weekend."

I just nod, lifting my bottle of water to my lips and taking a sip. I'm surprised I didn't see them leave when I was in the parking lot meeting Jake earlier.

"Oh my God, he just ran a hand through his hair," Angela tells me, and I reason that distracting her is the only way I'll get through this lunch hour without pulling out my own hair.

I clear my throat. "How many words did Mr. Lawrence say he wants our _Pride and Prejudice_ essays to be?"

"Six hundred to eight hundred words," she replies, barely missing a beat. "Though, he did mention that he wasn't against us going to one thousand if we felt so inclined."

I raise my eyebrows. "How many words have you already written?"

She doesn't look me in the eye, and I can see her guilt as clear as day. "Okay, so he may have amended the word count _after_ I spoke to him," she says. "It's just that I barely touched the surface of the role of women in society, and I was already up to six hundred words," she continued to explain. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You do know that they have a word count for a reason, right?"

"Shut up," she says, chucking a French fry at me. "I'm all for the plight of women; you know that."

I do. Angela is the president of several school organisations, which includes the Waite Academy Feminist Alliance. I'm all for fighting the good fight too, but why did she decide that my being vice president was a good idea? I'm about as unorganized as the next person.

"Are you almost done with your paper as well?"

I look at her. "We both know I haven't even started, Miss Weber."

"It's due on Friday, Miss Swan, and today is Wednesday," she counters, bringing out her teacher voice and making me laugh. "Does your mother know?"

I groan, burying my face in my hands dramatically. "Of course she doesn't," I say; "she'd chew my head off if she did."

"I'm not saying I'm a cannibal or anything, but, if I were to eat someone; it'd probably be you."

I laugh, because what else can I do? My best friend is _strange_ , but I have no choice but to love her. I'm just glad that we've stopped talking about Edward Cullen. There's only so much I can stomach in one day, really.

I latch onto the topic of cannibalism - what can I say, I'm desperate - and we start a discussion about the third season of the TV Show _Bones_ and the recurring villain Gormogon. Angela was always a fan of Zack Addy, and she was pretty heartbroken when he didn't return for Season Four. Of course, _I_ have to be the one to point out that he was guilty of helping a cannibalistic serial killer.

"But he didn't actually _kill_ anyone," she defends.

"That may be so," I agree because the thought of Zack killing anyone is just so absurd. He's just so _Zack_. "It just makes you wonder, huh?"

"What?"

"What logic would make a person do."

She looks at me for a moment. "Do you think we could somehow use logic to convince Edward Cullen to go out with me?"

And we're back to this, people.

I sigh before I look over my shoulder at the boy who turns my best friend into every single other girl in this school. It's no secret that the majority of the sophomores, freshmen, and some of the juniors - possibly even seniors - have a crush on Edward Cullen. He's what they call the Happy Triad in this strange place in which I now live: rich, good-looking, and ambitious. All three things that girls at Waite Academy find _very_ appealing.

I don't think I'm one of those girls, but that's probably because I'm technically already spoken for. _Now_ , at least. Let's just say I definitely made him work for it, that's for sure.

"Oh my, look at his smile," Angela says, sighing dramatically.

Someone help me. _Please_. I beg of you. Save me from this hell.

"He's just a boy, Angela," I say

"Of course you can say that, Bella; you've got Jake."

It's my turn to sigh. "Even if I didn't, I definitely wouldn't be perving over the poor, unsuspecting boy."

"But look at him, Bella. Just look. He's sexy as hell. Jessica said that she saw him in the pool the other day and she nearly died at the sight of his abs."

I shake my head. "Does your father know how much time you spend staring at a boy who is not your betrothed?"

"God no," she answers quickly; "he'd probably have a heart attack if he ever knew."

We share a knowing laugh because her father probably would. Reverend Alan Weber is the strictest man I've ever met, and I've been terrified of him since he first dropped Angela off at my house for our first sleepover our freshmen year. He'd insisted on coming inside to check that there were no boys anywhere in the house, which, admittedly, was new for me. I had to hold back a laugh when he came face to face with my little brothers.

It's probably another reason why Ben won't say anything to Angela. First, he'd have to go through her father, I'm sure. So I don't blame him, really. But then again, Angela _is_ worth it.

At a few minutes before twelve-thirty, Angela takes our trays away, and I carry our bags. We meet up at the doors to the dining hall before we head to our lockers. It's a bit of a routine of ours that we adopted the first month I arrived.

Once we've collected our things, we bid each other goodbye and head off in opposite directions. While I have AP Biology next, Angela has World History, but she's going to stop at the library before class. At the start of the year, we tried to get into the same classes, but Waite Academy is set in its ways, and we're just lucky our brains are relatively on the same level when it comes to Math because it's the only class we share this year.

As much as I love Biology, I hate it too. The theory of it is great, sure, and I love learning about the human body, but I'm not a fan of the practical side of it. Well, my stomach isn't a fan. _At all_.

I enter the classroom with trepidation and make my way to the workstation I share with Mike Newton. On practical days, our teacher steals half an hour of our lunch break so that we can fit it all in. It's either that, or we have to come in on an afternoon - which is impossible to schedule with all of Waite's extracurricular activities - or on Saturday mornings. Suffice to say, we'd rather give up half an hour of our lunch breaks than wake up early over the weekend.

Today's investigation is already set up, and I can already feel my stomach turning at the thought of what's to come. I'm so not ready for this. Our table is in the third row, with a pair of students sitting in front of and behind us. They may or may not be in for a show today.

I sit perfectly still as the class fills, and I barely move when Mr. Banner explains just what we're going to be doing today. But I swear I all but jump out of my skin when our _smiling_ teacher - the psychopath - sets a caged frog down on the centre of our table.

I back up as much as I can.

"It's just a frog," Mike says, somewhat amused by my reaction.

I glare at him. "I can see that, thank you very much," I say through gritted teeth. "But it's an _alive_ frog, and it _moves_."

"Which is exactly why we have to kill it, Bella."

I think I make a strained sound in my throat because the two students in front of us turn around to look at us. Well, to look at _me_. Rosalie Hale, who could probably squish me if she wanted to, is smiling knowingly at me, while her partner looks slightly annoyed. But, then again, does Edward Cullen have any other facial expression?

"It smells awful, doesn't it?" Rosalie says conversationally.

My surprise must register on my face because she just shrugs before she turns back around. Edward Cullen's eyes linger on our frog before he too turns around, and the moment is gone.

"That was weird," Mike mumbles, as he gets down to business.

Honest to God, I don't know how I get through the lesson. It's a miracle, really, that I don't pass out or run out the door kicking and screaming. I do squirm in my seat, make embarrassing noises and vehemently refuse to touch _it_. Edward Cullen and Rosalie turn to look at us a few times, both of them rather amused by my antics. It's strange because it's not the bad kind of amused.

Not the _Emmett McCarty_ kind of amused, I mean.

They just seem _genuinely_ amused. And, if I hadn't been such a spaz earlier when Rosalie tried to talk to me; I think that she might have even done it again. Who knew that dissecting a frog could bridge the gap between high school social circles?

Really, Rosalie looks to be enjoying this as much as I am. She squirms too, and Edward Cullen doesn't try to coax her into touching it. Like me, she's taking all the notes, but I doubt her stomach is as unsettled as mine is.

By the time Mr. Banner calls an end to proceedings, I've already packed up my things, ready to bolt. I need to leave because my stomach's just about reached its threshold, and the lingering smell is almost as worse as the real thing.

"The write-up is due on Monday," Mr. Banner says, and I tap my foot impatiently.

"Easy, Bella," Mike says, glancing at me worriedly.

"I'm going to throw up," I murmur.

Edward Cullen turns around at the sound of that, his eyes wide.

I take a steady breath, which turns out to be a bad idea as I just get hit by another wave of nausea.

Oh, no.

"Shit," Mike says.

I grip the side of the table. No. I am not going to throw up in front of all these people. I _won't._

"Here."

I look up to see Edward Cullen holding out a bottle of _Gatorade_. The red one.

"Drink some," he says. "It should help."

I just stare at him.

He glances over his shoulder as Mr. Banner continues with his instructions, before he slips off his stool, unscrews the bottle, and places it in my hand, his cold fingers brushing mine. "Drink," he instructs, his voice surprisingly gentle compared to the slight scowl on his face.

I drink.

"More," he says.

I drink some more.

He watches me, and I watch him.

My stomach calms. Sort of. It's hard to tell when he's looking at me like that.

"Feeling better?" Mike asks me.

I nod, moving to hand Edward Cullen back his bottle.

"Keep it," he says, setting the bottle top on the table in front of me; "you still have Phys. Ed. to get through."

It's not lost on me that he knows what lesson I have next, but I can't focus on that because Mr. Banner finally dismisses us. I stand. Too quickly. I sway slightly, my hand reaching out for the table at the same time that Mike steadies me with a hand on the small of my back.

"Easy there," he says.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I know, if I can just get out of this classroom, I'll be okay.

When I eventually open my eyes again, the classroom is practically empty. Edward Cullen and Rosalie are gone, which makes me feel equal parts relieved and disappointed. Weird.

"Do you need to go to the nurse?" Mike asks.

"No," I say. "You go on, okay. I'll catch up in a minute."

Once Mike is gone, I ask Mr. Banner to write me a note, and I do end up going to the nurse. She doesn't even ask me questions; just gives me a knowing look and sends me to a bed. We know each other far too well by now.

I set my things down, and sit down on the edge of the bed. I still have Edward Cullen's _Gatorade_ in my hand, and all I can really do is stare at it.

Edward Cullen talked to me. Angela is going to freak out.

"What was it?"

I look up.

Our school nurse, Sister Davis, is smiling warmly at me. "Biology, right?"

"A frog," I tell her.

She grimaces. "Nasty little things, aren't they?"

All I can do is nod.

"Lie down," she says. "We'll see how you feel in ten minutes."

I set the bottle on the table next to the bed, and move to lie down, but the sound of voices outside of the window stops me. I recognise at least one of them. Edward Cullen. I peak through the blinds to spy Edward Cullen and his _friends_ Emmett McCarty, Jared Wang, Alec Marcus, Leah Eldridge, and Rosalie Hale. They look to be in the middle of a rather heated discussion, with everyone but Edward Cullen standing off the sidewalk, and closer to the parking lot.

"I can't," Edward Cullen says. "If I skip any more school, my dad is going to straight-up murder me."

"He won't even know," Emmett counters. "Come on, stop being such a pussy."

Edward Cullen looks over his shoulder, back at the school building, as if he's praying that some reason to stay will magically pop up out of nowhere. It doesn't, of course, because life isn't fair. So he sighs, heavily, and runs a rough hand through his messy hair. "Fine," he huffs. "But, I swear, if we get caught, I'm going to kill the whole lot of you."

I watch them disappear, absently wondering why Edward Cullen couldn't just say that he wanted to stay. It was as clear as day on his face that the last thing he wanted to do was leave school. Couldn't his friends see that? I shake my head as I move to lie down. What the hell do I know anyway? _I'm_ too much of a _pussy_ to ditch school.

 _And_ , my mom would straight-up murder me as well.

Which is what she almost does when I get home just after five thirty. It's not an unusual time for me, but she looks as if she's in another world of stress - running around after two rowdy boys and a teenage angst fest. I know I should be sympathetic to everything she does, but I'm just not. Not today.

I'm the perfect daughter. She's not allowed to complain. Seriously. She's lucky her daughter isn't one of the other girls from school. _Then_ she could complain.

"I got a call today," she says as her greeting. "From Eli."

I groan internally. "Hello to you too, Mom," I say petulantly.

She ignores my snark; she usually does. "He says that you've missed your last two lessons."

That little bitch. I _told_ him I wasn't coming back. I can't say I'm even surprised that he went behind my back and told my mom.

"I've had a lot of work," I say, moving through the kitchen. I mean, it's not _really_ a lie. I do have a lot of work, but I also don't really _feel_ like, well, _music_. She won't understand that though, so I don't bother trying to explain it to her. We've had a fractured - no, maybe _disjointed_ \- relationship since we moved to Seattle.

"Oh, Sweetheart," she says, suddenly trying to be understanding.

I don't respond as I open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. "I _do_ have a lot of work," I repeat; "which is what I'm going to do now. You don't need help with dinner, do you?"

"No," she says. "I can handle it."

I don't waste a minute more, escaping from the kitchen and heading up to my room. I spent most of the afternoon with Angela in the library, quietly laughing over my inability to stomach dead frogs and practically dissecting every word that Edward Cullen said to me. She almost started crying when I told her about it, I swear.

We worked too. Sort of. Well, _after_ the librarian had to ask us to keep quiet for the third time.

I've always been a good student, diligent and relatively hard working, but I'm losing my drive. I don't know where it's going, and I have no idea how to hold onto it. I mean, I get it, I'm only a sophomore, but everything counts these days, doesn't it? Every mark, every extracurricular. We have to start preparing for college at a young age.

So, I suck it up and get down to business.

An hour into my _Pride and Prejudice_ paper, I get a text from Angela, telling me that Jessica told her that Edward Cullen got detention for bunking class. I'm indignant at best. Serves him right for skipping class, but then I also feel a little bit sorry for him. His father's probably laying into him right now about it.

I send her a quick reply, before I get back to work.

Dinner is uneventful. It's just me, my mom and my brothers. My dad's at work, which is kind of where he's been since he took that promotion and we moved here. I mean, I get it. He works hard for us; his family, to give us a good life, but I miss him, so I can only imagine how my brothers feel.

After dinner, Riley and I do the dishes. He's getting taller than me, even though he's two years younger. It's actually annoying, because his favorite thing is to point it out every opportunity he gets. Like right now.

I splash him with soapy water to get him to shut up, and we dissolve into a water fight that creates more of a mess than we're supposed to be cleaning up.

I head up to shower when he surrenders, and then I return to my work. Jake calls around ten o'clock, and we talk for almost half an hour before I tell him that I have a problem set to complete for Math, which I do. I remind him I'll see him on Friday - not Saturday - whisper goodnight, and then hang up.

My mom and Riley come say goodnight shortly after, but Max is already asleep.

We all say nothing about the fact that Charlie Swan isn't home yet.

* * *

"Did you hear?"

Whoever decided that Math first lesson was a good idea clearly wasn't ever a student. Angela is way too _awake_ for this early in the morning. She's bouncing in her seat, which is what Alice does. It really makes me wonder about how I became friends with either of them. If anything, I probably didn't have a choice in the matter. They latched onto me, and that was that.

"Edward Cullen got out of detention," she says when I don't respond. "Jessica says that, apparently, his father came in this morning to speak with Harold, and that's that." She lets out a breath. "Can you imagine?"

I _can_. Edward Cullen's father carries weight in this city. As big and populated as it is, everyone knows who Carlisle Cullen is.

"If I ever got caught bunking, I think my dad would probably ask Harold to increase my detention," she says, and I laugh. I love how she refers to our school headmaster by his first name, as if they're the best of friends.

They probably could be, if ever they took the time to get to know each other.

Thursday is probably my favorite day of the school week. I don't have the _physical_ Phys. Ed., and Mr. Banner usually lets us use our lesson to work on our write-ups. Really, when he's not being a psychopath and asking us to kill frogs; he's actually rather nice.

Jasper and Alice are around for lunch, which is a Godsend, now that Angela's discovered this power that Edward Cullen has. He can get out of detention as if it's some kind of magic. Of course, Alice indulges her, while Jasper and I discuss the upcoming FIFA World Cup in South Africa. I'm not nearly as excited about the soccer as my dad and brothers, but I'm keen to see how it all plays out.

Mike is already at our station when I get to Biology, and I suspect that he was probably making out with someone in here just before the bell rang. He's that type of guy. Asked me out every day for a month until I told him I had a boyfriend. I didn't then, but I do now, and doesn't he know it.

Jake's well known here for being the only non-Waite Academy student to walk on the Queen's Path between the dining hall and the main reception. I wasn't here for it, but it's supposed to be some big honor to be able to walk on it, and trust my boyfriend to be the one who just takes it.

As a result, Jake isn't _liked_ all that much in these parts. It's what I get for dating 'the enemy.' Some junior even called me a traitor a week after our first _official_ date.

"Did you get started on the write-up?" I ask Mike as I sit down, setting my bag on the tabletop.

"If you mean, did I open a document on my computer and stare at it for four long hours, then yes, I did," he says with such an endearing smile that I can only return it.

"Not exactly," I say carefully.

"You didn't show for Phys. Ed. yesterday," he points out, his voice dropping. "You all right?"

I look at him for a moment. As much of a goofball as he sometimes is, he's a goofball who very clearly cares. "I ended up going to see the nurse," I admit. "The nausea wasn't fun."

"You didn't miss much," he tells me with a shrug. "Jessica did get hit in the face though. It was pretty funny."

I chuckle despite myself. Oh, Jessica. We tried being friends when I first arrived, but it was pretty clear quite quickly that we weren't compatible. We don't see eye to eye on a number of very fundamental things and, to this day, I receive daily death glares just for being Mike's lab partner. I'm certain that, if I do end up dying in this place, it'll be caused by the strength of her stare.

Mr. Banner makes quick with his greeting before he leaves us to work on our write-ups. Mike and I spend the first twenty minutes going over our results and making sure that we're going to be putting in all the relevant information. We're so lost in our little world that it takes me an absurdly long time to notice that Edward Cullen and Rosalie are decidedly _not_ talking to each other.

I don't know why it bothers me, but it does. Why aren't they talking?

Is it because of the whole detention thing? Rosalie was one of those trying to get him to bunk the day before. Is he mad at her? He's generally a guarded fellow, but it's so difficult to imagine him actually angry and showing it.

Apparently, he's the silent type.

I'll admit that a small part of me was convinced that he would ask after me, given what happened yesterday. It's stupid, I know. It's just that, behind the scowl, there was so much caring in his eyes; it was actually overwhelming.

Half an hour in, Rosalie finally speaks. "You aren't seriously going to ignore me for the entire period, are you?" she asks, already sounding irritated. "This is ridiculous, Edward."

He doesn't so much as flinch. I can't see his face, but I imagine it's still as a rock.

"I told you I was sorry," she presses, her voice dying down.

That makes him turn his head, slowly. "And I told you that I don't care," he snaps.

I flinch at the same time that Rosalie recoils.

"Edward?" she sounds, her voice smaller than usual.

"I mean, how stupid can you be, posting about our bunking like that?" he hisses. "It's such a cliché, getting caught by social media."

Rosalie says nothing.

He takes a deep breath, his entire body moving with the action. "Look, I'm sorry," he says, and I can practically hear the apology in his tone. "I just don't want to talk about this right now. I've already got a lot to deal with at home without all of this."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

He's silent for a moment, before his face shifts, giving way to something I can only describe as mischief. Okay, I've been sitting behind Edward Cullen for almost eight months now, and I have never seen that look on his face. It almost floors me.

"Ribbit ribbit," he whispers, and Rosalie visibly shudders. "Ribbit ribbit."

"Edward," she threatens, and it merely spurs him on.

"Ribbit ribbit."

I let out a small giggle - oh shit - and he turns to look at me. I expect a scowl or even some anger, but he just looks amused. What makes it even worse is when he winks at me, as if we're in on the joke together. What is happening right now?

Angela would have died and gone to heaven.

I'm just confused.

"Stop," Rosalie says to him, but I take it as a direct order and return my attention to the work in front of me. It wouldn't do to come to the unnecessary attention of Edward Cullen and Rosalie Hale. It's nothing against _them_ , not really. It's just that they're friends with Emmett McCarty, and nobody wants to be on his radar.

By the end of the lesson, Mike and I have planned out our reports as thoroughly as possible. Now we just have to fill them in. For the investigation, we're supposed to hand it two separate reports for individual marks, but we're allowed to work on them together. Mr. Banner doesn't mind that part, as long as he can see that each person put the work into his or her own write-up.

So this is the point where I leave Mike on his own. Early on in our partnership, he tried to get me to do all the work for both of us, and his failing grade was enough to let him know never to try again. We do get separate marks, which requires both of us to put in the work. I refuse to carry him.

After the bell rings, Mike and I walk to Phys. Ed. My _absolute favorite_. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays are actual get-changed, throw-things-around-days, while Thursdays and Fridays are more focused on the _health_ part. The good thing is that it's almost the end of the school year, which means that we're pretty much done with the curriculum.

Which, essentially, means we have a free period.

Jessica claims Mike's attention early on, and I use the time to work on my English paper. Well, that's what I tell myself I'm going to do, but I really just text Jake the entire time. He's supposed to be in Spanish, but his replies are as quick as mine are. I'd rather not know how or why - plausible deniability and all that.

Our usual date night is Saturday night, but we're having some of my dad's colleagues over for dinner, and I'm expected to be home. Of course, Jake made a huge show of having to cancel the hot air balloon and get a refund back for the hired _Bat-mobile_. He can be such an idiot sometimes.

Which is why, when I do see him Friday night, I feign disappointment that there's no red carpet.

He laughs, absently pulling me in for a hug. His body shakes from his laughter, and I feel myself relax into him. We've been through a bit, Jake and I, and I know we've got to hold onto these moments. He's a great guy, well-liked and parent-approved. The problem is that I've never fully understood where I stand in this relationship. I've never felt secure with him, which is why it took forever for us to go on our first date, and even longer for me to agree to be his girlfriend.

Apparently, being Jacob Black's girlfriend is a big deal.

Girls from his own school fawn over him and the part that gets to me is that he doesn't always ignore them. He likes the attention; the glory. Because he's practically worshipped, being a regional, school-record-holding track star. Whatever Jake is; the boy can run. _Fast_. He always jokes that it comes in handy whenever he has to get away from his girlfriend's father.

That's another thing. My dad and Jake have never actually met. Charlie isn't home nearly enough for that to happen. I reason that it's for the best, because Jake is a junior. I'm born in September and _technically_ a year young for my grade, and I'm sure my dad would emphasise the fact that Jake is a year older than I am. He's a bit of a strange fellow, Charlie Swan.

I have a curfew, which Jake _hates_. It's ten o'clock on weekdays, and eleven o'clock on the weekends. Friday is ten thirty. It's a joke in my family, because the debate is still ongoing on whether Friday - in this sense - counts as a weekday or part of the weekend. Sunday's a little up in the air as well, but I've never been out past eight o'clock on a Sunday anyway. I'm usually home trying to catch up on my homework.

"What are you doing on Sunday?" Jake asks as he drives me home after we've waited as long as we possibly can to start heading back. We're creative when it comes to wasting time. Once, we even went into a midnight barber, just so Jake could get a haircut.

I think it's the rebel in me that wants to push our luck with my curfew, but I can't be sure. The good thing is, though, after this summer; I'll be able to approach the topic again and see what happens. Just have to catch my parents on a good day... which are becoming increasingly rare.

"Biology," I tell him.

"A bunch of us are going surfing," he tells me, seemingly ignoring my reply. "If you have time in the afternoon, I'd really like to see you."

This is where we clash a lot. I don't particularly like hanging out with his friends, and he doesn't like hanging out with mine. It isn't that I don't like his friends - okay, I don't like some of them. It's just that, whenever I'm with all of them; I feel as if I'm some kind of trophy that Jake won. It's conceited of me, I know, but I can't help it. He's different when it's just the two of us, and that's the Jake I like.

"Sure," I say. "I'll see how my paper goes. I've also got a test Tuesday, but I'll try." I say it, but I suspect he knows I won't. "Just text me the details."

He probably won't.

When we get to my house, he pulls up in front and turns off the engine. I check my watch. We still have eight minutes, which we put to good use when he leans over and presses his mouth against mine. It's much easier to forget about the things we don't talk about when we're not talking.

At exactly ten thirty, the light on the front porch flickers, and I can't help my giggle. My mom's long since given up on seeing out my curfew, but my brother was quick to pick up the mantle. Sometimes, I swear Riley lives for getting me in trouble. Well, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. Not tonight.

"I should go," I tell Jake, leaning back and straightening myself out.

"But why?" he says playfully, pulling his face into a pleading look. He really does look like a puppy sometimes as he pushes out his bottom lip and bats his eyelashes.

"I have to," I say.

He sighs. "I'll see you Sunday?"

"Maybe." I kiss him once more, before I get out of the car. The air is a little chilly for May, and I fold my arms to keep the chill at bay as I make my way towards the house. Once I reach the porch, I turn to look back at Jake, but he's gone.

Is it weird that I already know we have an expiration date?

As I expected, Riley is standing in the foyer, looking smug. "Two minutes late, Miss Swan," he says, shaking his head. "I'm very disappointed in you."

I roll my eyes. "Says you. What have you been doing all night?"

He just shrugs.

"Status?"

At this, his eyes narrow slightly. "Max is asleep, Mom's in her room and Dad's at work. What's new?"

I swallow. We've fallen into a nasty pattern lately, and I don't know what to do about it. "You headed to bed?" I ask as I lock the front door. Can't be too careful these days.

He shakes his head. "I'm watching a documentary."

"On?"

"Sharks."

I shudder. "And there I thought I'd join you."

"Wuss."

"I won't even deny it." I move towards him and place a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for holding down the fort," I say, and he shrugs. "I'm going to head to bed, all right? I'm sure I'm going to need my strength for whatever Mom has planned for tomorrow."

He laughs, but I'm right.

From the second my mom viciously wakes me up at _eight_ o'clock on Saturday morning, it's full speed ahead. While she's making a mess in the kitchen, she sends our helper, Anna, to clean up the mess that is the rest of the house. My mom must really want to impress the people coming tonight. For my dad.

Always for him.

The entire day flies past, and she almost forgets to feed us. When it's getting close to time, we're all sent to get ready. I swear Renee Swan even sends herself to get ready. Like, verbally. She stops what she's doing, taking a breath and then tells herself to get dressed. It was equal parts heartbreaking and amusing.

When I get to my room, I'm surprised to find that my mom hasn't laid out an outfit for me. She usually does. Maybe she trusts me to make a good decision. Or maybe she just forgot. There's always that.

When I'm ready, I head downstairs for the critique. It's part of my mom's charm. I meet Max and Riley on my way down as they're headed back up.

"Verdict?" I ask.

Riley shrugs. "Acceptable," he says. "Max got a 'handsome.'"

"It's the dimples."

He chuckles for a moment, before it tapers off. "Dad's home."

"Oh."

He nods. "Oh." And then they're gone.

I continue on into the lion's den, and find my parents in the dining room, where Max and I spent almost half an hour setting the table to perfection. They don't notice me, and I don't know if I should say something.

My mom takes the choice away from me.

"How does it look?" she asks my dad.

"Very nice," he says, and I cringe internally. You'd think that he's learned by now that he has to say something _more_. She's spent the entire day being a frightening dictator, in order to make the house presentable for _his_ guests, and all he says is 'very nice.'

I don't miss the way my mom's face falls, but my dad does, and I have this sudden urge to say something. I open my mouth, only for the doorbell to ring. Maybe it's a good thing too because I don't even know what I would have said. Or even to whom.

My mom startles and takes a moment before she turns on her hostess mode.

"Charlie," she says to my dad; "go greet our guests." She looks at me for the first time, just noticing me. "Go get your brothers upstairs," she instructs. "Make sure they _still_ look presentable."

I just nod, before I start to move; but the sound of my mom's voice stops me.

"Oh, and Bella?"

I look at her.

"You look very nice tonight, Sweetheart."

"Thanks, Mom," I say. "So do you." And then I race out of the dining room and up the stairs. I find both Riley and Max in Riley's bedroom, both of them with their jackets off and sleeves rolled up. I'm pretty sure that it's been only two minutes - how could they have done so much damage already?

"They're here," I say, interrupting their video game. I vaguely recognise it as _Need for Speed_ , and I smile to myself. They haven't asked me to play with them since I schooled them the first time I played. Apparently, they have too much pride. Riley didn't speak to me for three days, and Max still calls me a 'hustler.' I'm not entirely convinced that he knows what the word means, but he heard Riley say it, and Max copies everything his brother does.

"Do we have to?" Max whines.

"Yes we do," I say, ruffling his hair.

He grumbles before he picks up his jacket off Riley's bed. I help him with his sleeves and do up his buttons, before I give Riley the once over. Now that he's interested in girls, he's paying a lot more attention to how he looks. It's a bit of a relief, but he now takes longer than I do to get ready. I've never been more grateful for my own bathroom. We'd be sharing if we hadn't moved here.

"Who are these people anyway?" Riley asks.

"Someone Dad works with," I say with a shrug.

"Will this help him get another promotion?" Max asks.

"I don't know," I say. "Maybe. Why? Are you planning on doing something?"

He grins at me. "No."

"Whatever you do, leave me out of it," I tell him. "I'm already in enough trouble about Eli."

"Why don't you just tell her that you don't want to play anymore?" Riley asks.

I look at him. "Have you met our mother?"

He chuckles. "We should get going," he says; "before she comes to get us."

Max squeals, before he races out of the room. Riley follows with a laugh, but I hang back for a moment. It's never really occurred to me that I could just _talk_ to my mom about it. I don't know why but I get the feeling that she just wouldn't understand. Or, she won't even try to. We'll just end up fighting, I'm sure. It's better just to avoid the topic of Eli and my lessons, and hope that she somehow, by some miracle, forgets all about it.

I stop by my bedroom to check my phone, and reply to Mike's message about my findings. I'm vague at best, but not heartless. I also text Angela, complaining about the evening I'm about to endure. These colleagues of my dad's are probably going to be super boring, and ask all the same, awkward questions about school and how I like Seattle.

I don't.

It's always raining.

I really don't do well with the rain.

When I get downstairs, I can hear voices coming from various directions. Based on experience, I suspect my dad's taken the guests into the living room. My mom is probably in the kitchen, which is where I go. I expect to find her alone, so I'm wholly surprised when she's standing at the kitchen island with another woman, both of them busy preparing drinks and talking to each other as if they've been friends for years.

My mom smiles when she spots me. "There you are," she says, waving me over. "Come meet our guests."

I step into the kitchen.

"Esme, this is my daughter, Bella. Bella, this is Esme, her - " she gets cut off by Max, who comes running through the kitchen, closely followed by twin boys, who look a little older than him. "Max, slow down," my mom says, at the same time that the other woman - Esme - says, "Boys, behave."

I can't help my smile, as the women exchange an amused look.

"Should I take those to Dad?" I ask, gesturing to the tray on the counter.

"Please," she says.

There are three glasses on the tray. Two Scotches, I suspect, and a glass of red _Gatorade_. It's odd that my mom poured it out of its bottle, but I don't say anything. Really, the sight of it makes me think of Edward Cullen, which is just strange. I'm sure there are millions of people in this world who drink _Gatorade_.

It should have been my first sign, really.

Without another word, I lift the tray and leave the kitchen, my hands steady and my mind focused on where I put my feet. My mom is probably waiting for the sound of my fall. I make it through the foyer safely, and head towards the arch leading into the living room.

Which is empty.

I follow the voices towards the back of the house. They probably went outside.

I bypass the dining room, and go through the TV lounge that opens onto the back terrace, but the door is closed, and I can't slide it open with a tray in my hands. I contemplate balancing it on one hand, but I quickly shut that down. It won't end well. I know that much.

However, before I can set the tray down, the door slides open. Maybe someone could sense my presence, because they couldn't see me through the drawn curtain.

I step forward, my mind already registering my relief. I see a foot first, jeans on a leg, white button-down, and -

And I come face to face with none other than Edward Cullen himself.


	2. Closed Hand, Full of Friends

**Chapter Two: Closed Hand, Full of Friends  
**

 **EPOV**

Her surprise registers first, which is closely followed by confusion, and then embarrassment. Her cheeks flush as if on command, and her tray tilts slightly, dangerously. Really, I'm tempted to take it from her, but I don't want to unsettle her any more than I clearly already have.

"Hi," I say, retreating slightly. "Were you just coming out?"

She nods, though her eyes are still a little wide, and she still hasn't said a word.

I step out of the way, allowing her space to come through the door. It's the polite thing to do.

She doesn't move.

I should be amused, but I'm not. I don't want her to feel so out of sorts in her own home. This moment is important, I suspect. If it goes badly, I'll tell my father that it's best if I go home. I kind of want to, anyway. I'm exhausted.

"Bella?" a voice calls.

My head snaps to the side, where our fathers are standing together.

"Come meet Mr. Cullen," her father says, speaking again.

It seems to snap her out of her trance because she starts walking, straight past me, towards her father. There's a small spring in her step, and it both unsettles and settles me. Perhaps I'll be having an early night after all. I reckon I deserve it after the whirlwind of a week I've just had. I'm actually surprised that I'm still alive. I could have sworn that my father _was_ going to murder me at some point.

He knows better though.

I head into the house, following the directions Mr. Swan gave me. I don't actually need the bathroom but more of an escape. I hate these things. It's one thing to drag Esme here, but to bring us as well is a little much, don't you think? I'd like to say that family should be kept separate from work, but Cullen Novak is kind of a family business and the lines are _very_ blurred.

I spend a few minutes in the guest bathroom. My shoulder feels a little tight, so I stretch it out for a moment. I'll have to roll out properly tomorrow.

When I've exhausted the suitable time to spend in the bathroom not to make my return awkward, I leave. I make my way back towards the back terrace, wary of who I may or may not encounter on my way. I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed that I don't see _her_ by the time I'm sliding the back terrace door open.

Do I want an excuse to leave that badly?

"Edward?"

I move towards my father. He's still standing with Mr. Swan. And Isabella.

"I believe you know Bella here," my father says. "We were just talking about your exploits in dissection in Biology."

I look at Bella and, as expected, she looks a little green from the topic of conversation. She's probably too polite to say anything to my father though, so I do it for her. "Oh, Dad, not before we're about to eat dinner," I say.

His smile softens. "You're right, Son," he says.

I hate it when he calls me 'son,' as if it were even possible for me to forget. I think he does it for my benefit, as if I need reminding that there's still a parent who loves me.

 _Sure there is_.

"I should go and check if Mom needs help," Bella says, politely excusing herself.

"Go with, Edward," my father says.

It's my cue to know that there's going to be business talk, and I'm clearly not wanted around. I know the drill. I've been here before.

"I put your drink on the table," Bella says, addressing me for the first time as we walk away from our fathers, easily falling into step beside each other. Her voice is steady and undisturbed. She's clearly over the initial shock I gave her when she first saw me.

I blink. "Uh, thanks," I say, stepping wide left to retrieve the glass of the wooden table.

She raises her eyebrows. " _Gatorade_ , huh?"

Maybe there's hope yet. "I need the calories," I tell her. I might have told her that I just like the taste, but there's just something about her. My go-to answers aren't going to work here, and I don't really have it in me to say them anyway.

She gives me the once-over, and I suddenly feel uncomfortable in my skin. "I didn't know you were going to be our dinner guests," she tells me when we reach the sliding door. I move to open it, but she ignores my movement and opens it herself. She goes through first, and I follow, sliding it closed behind me.

"I didn't know either," I admit. It's the truth. All I knew was we were headed to a colleague's house for dinner, and that was that. I'm over asking questions now. What Carlisle Cullen says, usually goes. The _new_ business in Seattle is sort of his brainchild, and the rest of us just go with the flow. As long as he allows me to do my thing; how can I complain?

She leads the way through the house towards the kitchen, and pushes the door open. Her mother and Esme are chatting together, each of them with a glass of wine. Maybe they're bitching about their workaholic husbands. Who knows?

"Do you need any help?" Bella asks.

"No, we're all right for now," her mother responds. "We'll eat at seven thirty, all right?"

"Okay." She closes the door, before she turns to look at me and it's awkward. It's _really_ awkward.

"Do you want me to go?" I ask eventually.

"What?"

I swallow. "It's just, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," she says, her voice shakier than usual. "I'm just not sure what to do." She lets out a breath. "We're at that age, you know? Too old to hang out with the little kids, but too young to kick it with the adults."

I'm surprised because I didn't expect her to be so candid with me. "Are you _sure_ you don't want me to go?"

"Is that what you want?"

I blink. "It's just that I know you're not a fan of me."

She looks particularly scandalized by my observation - or assumption. "Who said that?"

"If you'd seen the look you gave me when you first saw me; you wouldn't need words," I tell her.

"You surprised me, that's all," she counters, her eyes narrowing. "Believe me when I tell you that Edward Cullen was the last person I expected to see here tonight."

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I don't.

"Come on," she says, turning on her heel and heading back towards what must be the TV lounge.

I follow in silence.

It's still awkward. I don't know what to say and, once we're settled in seats suitably far from each other with the TV on; there's no real need to speak anyway. She flicks through the channels, searching for something suitable.

"Is there anything specific you want to watch?" she asks.

I don't know how to tell her that I don't actually watch that much television. "Anything's fine."

She nibbles at her bottom lip, clearly thinking. I watch for the moment that she decides, and her eyes dance with mirth. It's quite endearing.

 _MTV_. Well, can't ever go wrong with _MTV_ , can you?

We've listened to three songs by the time she speaks. I suspect she figured out that I was never going to be the one to break the silence.

"Aren't you going to drink that?" she asks, her eyes on the glass of _Gatorade_ in my hand. "I promise I didn't spike it."

"Didn't think you did," I say automatically.

We fall silent again and, this time, I do sip at my drink. It isn't as cold as it once was, but I'm not about to complain. It is quite sweet though, and I grimace.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"It's the poison," I say, straining my voice as I dramatically clutch at my throat. "You have fooled me, Miss Swan."

I'm rewarded with a fake laugh and a shake of her head. "Very funny."

"I try."

Her eyes stay on me for a moment, before she looks at the TV again. I'm not really into the marketable _pop_ music, so a lot of it is just going over the top of my head. I guess they have decent beats and all that, but I'm more into the quiet kind: indie, singer/songwriter kind of stuff.

It's another few minutes before she speaks again. "Have you finished your write-up for Biology?" she asks.

I shake my head no. "That's tomorrow's problem. You?"

"Same," she tells me. "Though, every time I try to work on the actual writing part, as opposed to the planning part, I get all squeamish."

"It _was_ gross, wasn't it?"

"You didn't seem that freaked out," she points out.

"I'm one with the amphibians, you see."

She smiles. It's an open smile, and it's the first time that I catch sight of an unguarded Bella. It's kind of disarming just how beautiful she is in this moment. I like this side of her; this side that her family and friends probably get to see on a daily basis. I feel something oddly like jealousy, which I don't immediately understand.

Until I do.

Bella _has_ an unguarded side.

"Dissection doesn't really freak me out," I add. "I mean, if it were a cadaver, I'd imagine it would be an entirely different story."

Her eyes widen. "Oh God. Don't even bring that visual into the conversation."

I laugh lightly.

"I also had nightmares about 'ribbit ribbit,' thank you very much."

I can't help my grin. "You're very welcome."

"I mean, frogs are genuinely disgusting creatures, right? I can't be the only one who thinks that."

"You're definitely not," I assure her. "Rose agrees with you. Like, on an atomic level."

She nods, frowning slightly.

"What?"

She worries her bottom lip and I stare; I can't help it. "I know this probably sounds stupid, but it _is_ weird that she talked to me, right?"

I raise my eyebrows in question.

"It's just that, you know, we don't exactly move in the same circles."

"Bella," I say, and her eyes snap towards me. I realise it's the first time I've said her name, and it feels equal parts exciting and terrifying hearing myself say it. " _We're_ talking."

"We don't have a choice."

I dramatically clutch at my chest. "Ouch," I say, but she's right. "You wound me, Swan." Swan is safer to say. I think I'll stick with it until I can reassess what's happening right now.

She giggles, and it's almost musical. "All I'm saying is that it was weird, right?"

"What _was_ weird was the way you just stared at her," I tell her.

"Oh God," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "I _knew_ I acted like such a spaz."

"It's okay," I say. "It was kind of endearing."

"Oh, sure, that totally helps."

"As I expected."

She glares at me for a moment, before we both burst out laughing. I feel lighter than I have all week, almost worry-free, even though it isn't actually a possibility. I guess I like the idea of just being this person that I am, with Bella.

There's no pressure here. Nobody wants something from me. I don't have to act a certain way, and it's easing the tension that's been building up inside of me since Kevin told me that I lost almost a full second on my freestyle splits.

If I hadn't been so exhausted at the time, I'm sure I might have cried.

When I look up, she's looking at me curiously, as if she's trying to figure something out, but she's failing.

"What?" I ask.

She waits a beat. "You're different than I imagined."

"What did you imagine?"

"I don't know," she replies. "Just, not _you_."

I shrug. "I guess I'm too busy to be any one stereotype," I tell her, and I believe it's the truth. I'm a jock without being a jock. I'm a popular kid without actually enjoying the popularity. And, if Bella ever knew the extent of my timetable, she'd probably keel over and die. Like I sometimes want to.

"Swimming?"

I nod. "My life is one, massive balancing act."

"How do you do it?"

"It's difficult," I tell her, and it's true. It _is_ difficult, but the reward is definitely worth it. At least, it will be. One day, I hope. "I have a lot of help as well. I'm not the only one invested in my success."

She just nods, but she looks like she has more questions.

"Just ask, Swan," I say, and her eyes meet mine. "Ask whatever you want to ask."

"It's nothing," she says. "You've just really surprised me."

I raise my eyebrows. "I have?"

She nods.

"Because I'm not actually self-centred and entirely oblivious?"

She laughs. "Exactly." Then: "No, I mean - it's just, well, you're friends with Emmett McCarty, and that in itself kind of gives way to certain opinions about you."

I drop my gaze. Of course. _Emmett_. "We've been friends since we were seven," I tell her. "He, Rose and I - we formed a little group when my family first moved here. He wasn't always such a jackass, but something happened along the way, I guess." I run a hand through my hair, surely making it messier than it usually is. Esme will probably throw a fit when I turn up at the dinner table. "There are reasons he acts the way that he does, and I do try to keep him grounded, but I'm not always around, and he doesn't always listen to me. He has _other_ voices in his ear these days." I can't help my scowl. "He's also very stubborn and set in his ways. Short attention span as well. Once he latches onto something, he sees it through, and then forgets."

Her eyes narrow. "I don't know about the forgetting part."

"Temporarily moves on then," I offer.

She nods.

"I won't defend him, because he is a bully. It's as simple as that." I sigh. "Actually, I won't defend any of us, because we're bystanders, more often than not."

She regards me for a moment. "Why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Why don't you ever say anything? Try to get him to stop?"

I frown slightly. How did we even get here?

She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

I heave a sigh, trying to think of the right words. "It's because I'm a weak little shit," I eventually say, and it seems to surprise us both. "It's true," I say before she can respond. "I'm so focused on my own life, on my own goals that I can't even rock the boat. I mean, I _see_ it, but I'm a coward. I'm just a coward."

She just stares at me, her mouth hanging open slightly as she digests what I've just said.

I continue anyway. "What happens if I do say something, anyway?" I ask rhetorically. "I can barely get out of bunking without him calling me out. He knows my secrets. He knows my fears, and I don't think he'd be against using them against me." The more I speak, the more I realise how messed up my friendship with Emmett sounds.

I mean, he isn't a _bad guy_. Not deep down, I don't think. Life just dealt him a crappy hand, and I'm trying to get him to stop taking it out on other people. Including me.

"I guess, I just _can't_. I'm not cut out for it. I'm definitely not the right person. I can barely protect myself, let alone others."

She waits a beat, before she clears her throat. "But you're Edward Cullen."

"So?"

She looks away for a moment. "So." Her eyes meet mine. "That means something."

"And what exactly does it mean?"

She takes a moment, visibly thinking. "I don't know you, but I don't believe for a second that you're anything like the way you describe yourself?"

"Why's that?"

"Because _I'm_ nothing like the way I describe myself."

I wait, because I'm not entirely sure that I'm following what she's saying. We kind of just look at each other for a while, words hanging in the air, creating meaning out of nothing at all.

But, before our conversation can go any further, her mother appears in the doorway.

"Ah, there you are," she says, eyeing us both, before glancing at the TV. She rolls her eyes as if to say 'of course.' "We're almost ready here," she says, her eyes on Bella. "Call your dad, will you?"

Bella nods, before she rises to her feet. "Just Dad?" she asks her mother; "or Mr. Cullen too?"

"Ha ha." That was as great a fake laugh as I've ever heard. I see where Bella gets it from. "Just go."

Bella shoots me an amused look before she heads towards the infamous sliding door that opened me up to the very idea of this evening.

Her mother turns her attention to me. "Edward, dear, come to the table."

I stand immediately, my practically-still-full glass in my hand. I'm tempted to wait for Bella, but that means I'd be waiting for my father, and I don't want to do that. So I head towards where I remember the dining room to be.

It's a large table, which can easily seat ten people comfortably. Which, incidentally, is the exact number that we are. Even as we all settle in to eat, I can't help noticing the similarities in the families.

High-powered fathers with important jobs.

Superhuman mothers who manage to do supernatural tasks on a daily basis.

Teenagers, who are desperately trying to find their way in the world.

And two adolescent boys, though Riley would probably put up a fight at that description. He _is_ closer to our age, I guess. But still.

The similarities are a little weird, and yet comforting at the same time.

Conversation is light, flowing easily across the table. My brothers really seem to be getting on with Bella's youngest brother, and I'm secretly glad that they're making a new friend. Peter is a painfully shy, and Liam's OCD makes it difficult for him to interact with kids his own age.

Really, Carlisle Cullen has an odd bunch of kids.

Dinner is divine. It's a whole lot of things, varying from pot roast to seafood pasta that I practically devour. Esme made me eat after training earlier, which is a good thing too, otherwise I might have polished off the entire bowl of pasta myself. It's just so good.

Bella sits on my right, forming the tail of the table, and her brother, Max, is on my left, literally talking a mile a minute about _Spider-Man_. I swear, if Bella weren't steadily telling me a funny story about an incident during Phys. Ed. class, I'm sure that Max might've talked my left ear right off.

I lean closer to her and whisper: "Is he always like this?" I ask.

She nods. "Collectively, as a family, we make sure to avoid the trigger words." She lifts her hands and starts to tick them off one by one. "Spider, man, Tobey, Maguire, Uncle, Ben, green, goblin, Mary, Jane, great, power, responsibility, and _pssht_." At the last word, she forms _Spider-Man_ 's famous hand movement to release a web. "And, not necessarily in that order."

I can't help my grin. "You're a fan, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" she counters, and I swear my grin widens.

"I think it's cool," I say, because I think it is. I also think that it's pretty neat that she's unafraid to let me know that she _is_ a fan. This evening has just been full of surprises.

She gives me a hard look, as if she's trying to figure out if I'm kidding or not. When she's satisfied that I'm not teasing, she returns my smile for a moment, before looking back down at her dinner.

I also return to my pasta, trying to ignore the very real possibility that this is probably the first time that _I've_ had an unguarded conversation with anyone in -

It's been a long time.

"Do you want more _Gatorade_?" Bella asks me after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Your glass," she says; "do you want a top-up?"

"Oh, no thank you," I say; "I'm fine with water for now."

She smiles once, and we both return to our plates. I get lost in my thoughts. I mean, I feel like I can _talk_ to this girl and it unsettles me. My father sent me to a child psychologist - they called her a trauma counsellor to make her sound less scary - when I was younger, but I don't really remember it being useful. I didn't want to talk then, and I sure as hell don't want to talk now.

But this girl.

Bella nudges my foot with her own, easily getting my attention. "You okay?" she asks softly enough for only me to hear.

I nod. "Just thinking."

"That's dangerous."

I smile. Why the hell am I smiling so much? "So I've heard."

"So you should probably stop."

My smile hasn't dropped. "Tell me again how you hit Jessica Stanley in the face with a tennis ball."

She laughs, and my wondering thoughts are temporarily forgotten.

After we've eaten, Bella, the boys and I all clear the table. In the kitchen, Bella's mother puts her in charge of organizing dessert and hot beverages to be feasted on in the living room, where the parents have retreated to. Max, Liam and Peter eventually disappear somewhere, which leaves Riley, Bella and me in the kitchen.

Bella seems very at home in the kitchen.

"Are you having coffee?" she asks me.

"Yes please," I say with a nod. "One sugar and _a lot_ of milk."

She busies herself with tailoring everyone's mug while I chat to Riley. He's almost as easy to talk to as Bella, his smile infectious and his taste in video games too tempting. I also like the fact that he doesn't know me at all. It's almost a relief. Though, I guess, of course he's heard of me. We may not be on the same campus yet, but we still go to the same parents school.

Also, the way he is with Bella is fascinating. They have their own way about them, using few words to communicate. They clearly have some kind of understanding that I imagine comes from shared experiences on top of being siblings.

"Riley, don't you want to grab the trifle from the fridge?" Bella says. "And spoons. We need spoons."

I look at her expectantly. "Anything I can help with?"

She eyes me for a moment. "How adept are you at slicing cake?"

I blink. "Not very adept, but I'm willing to learn."

"Oh boy," she mutters, before she stretches her back, making me swallow thickly.

I'm not blind. Bella is pretty. Beautiful. With kind eyes and a gentle smile that makes the world feel as if it makes sense. She's perfect, really.

"The cake's in the fridge," she tells me. "Be gentle. I spent hours on it."

"You bake?" I ask stupidly.

"She cooks too," Riley adds, before Bella can even answer my unnecessary question. "Makes the best lasagna man has ever eaten."

She laughs the praise away, her cheeks flushing. "Cake, Edward. In the fridge."

My eyes snap towards her, at the same time that her flush deepens. It's the first time _she's_ said _my_ name when addressing me, and it's not lost on me how easily it falls from her lips. Jesus Christ. What on earth is happening right now?

I do as instructed, retrieve the cake, and set the masterpiece down on the centre island. Its iced simply and beautifully in white frosting, with pretty red decorations along its sides. If I were a cake eater, it probably wouldn't leave the kitchen.

"It looks amazing," I say, and her blush hasn't even let up once. "I bet it tastes it too. What flavor is it?"

"Red velvet," she says, and I make a strangled sound in my throat. "What?"

"Nothing," I hasten to say. "Just, red velvet is kind of my favorite."

"Well, then you're in luck."

My gaze meets hers. "Yes, I do believe that my luck has changed, Swan."

She doesn't respond; just uses the boiling kettle to distract the conversation away from its current topic, and I think we're both relieved. This is all a little much, isn't it?

Once everything is prepared, we leave the kitchen as a unit, each of us carrying trays. Bella serves everyone their chosen hot beverage and cake, and leaves the trifle out. She dishes for Max, Peter and Liam some of the dessert into bowls, and then sends Riley to find the boys and deliver their bowls.

I take my coffee and the tiny slice of cake that Bella guilted me into, and Bella collects her own cuppa and slice of cake, before we go back to the TV lounge. _MTV_ is still playing softly, but she makes no move to change it or increase the volume.

I settle into my claimed armchair, and she drops down onto the opposite end of the couch she sat on earlier. She's sitting closer to me now, and I know it's a conscious choice that she's made. Unlike the first time we were here, we settle into easy conversation much quicker. The cake is delicious, and I tell her repeatedly just to see her blush. God, it's so endearing.

As soon as she's done with her dessert, she abandons her crockery on the coffee table and stretches out, looking much more relaxed than the tension she was displaying earlier. I absently wonder what _I_ look like right now. I don't even think I have a relaxed demeanor.

"Have you ever been to Westport?" she asks.

I frown for a moment, thinking. "The beach?"

She nods. "Apparently it's a good spot for surfing."

"Never been," I tell her.

"You're better suited for _in_ the water, rather than _on_ it, huh?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Well, if you think that, then you've _clearly_ never seen me swim."

She laughs, taking it as a bit of an invitation. "One day, then."

I suddenly can't wait. It's odd. I barely know her, but I get the feeling that she would be one of my biggest cheerleaders. I look at her because I can't stop myself.

"What?" she asks, her cheeks tingeing pink.

"I'm just trying to imagine you surfing and, after you Phys. Ed. stories, my brain just can't seem to make the leap," I tell her.

She laughs. "Oh no, not me," she's quick to inform me. "I wouldn't be caught dead surfing. I mean, I'd probably die if I were to surf. I can barely play tennis, remember?"

I frown. "So, you're not going surfing?"

"I'm going to watch."

It takes me a moment to click. "Oh. Jacob Black, huh?"

She looks surprised that I know, which is silly of her. "I guess everyone knows, huh?"

"Pretty much," I tell her. It's hard not to know when the guy tells everyone he meets, practically boasting about it. I, for one, like private relationships. The quiet kind, that exists between the very two people involved. Not that I have all that much experience in that department, really. "So, Westport, huh?"

"As much fun as I'm sure it will be," she says, and I can hear the sarcasm in her voice; "I do have a write-up to do."

"The life of a student."

"Exactly."

We smile at each other, and I'm struck again by how easy this all is. I've never really felt so at ease. Not even with my own friends. Okay, maybe a little with Rose, and with Emmett when we're alone and away from school. Somewhere where outside images don't matter, and he doesn't have to assert whatever dominance he imagines he has to.

But this is different, that's for sure.

I feel as if we talk for ages, though, in reality, it's probably only half an hour. We don't really touch on anything profound, but I do learn that her favorite colour jumps between purple and green. I tease her about loving _Barney The Dinosaur_ , and she giggles with delight, telling me about how much she loves the _Barney_ movie with the magical egg.

It all sounds like a euphemism to me.

When Esme comes to call me when it's time to go, I'm sure that my face matches Bella's, though I'm still at a loss as to how or why. It doesn't make sense. Anyway, I stand up even though I don't really want to. This entire evening has been a welcome break from my life and I don't want it to end.

Bella stands up as well, and we stretch simultaneously, which makes her laugh.

For a while, we just stare at each other.

"Give me your phone," she eventually says, and I barely hesitate as I dig it out of the pocket of my jeans. She's practically humming when I hand it to her, quickly unlocking it. "So, this is what's going to happen," she says, not even looking at me. "If ever you need to talk about anything - " she looks at me, " - _anything at all_. You can with me." She drops her gaze again. "Text, call, whatever you want. Okay?"

I don't say anything.

Her eyes meet mine. "Okay?"

I nod.

"Out loud."

"Okay."

She smiles at me, before she quickly dials herself from my phone. I feel a little shell-shocked, and I can't bring myself to say anything.

I don't know if I'll ever willingly take her up on this offer, and I get the feeling that she must know that. My problems are too big for her shoulders. Heck, they're too big for my own.

"Thank you," I say anyway.

Her eyes meet mine, and something passes between us. I don't know what it is, and I'm not bothered to try to figure it out. It's there, and it's a secret. Even though it isn't said out loud, I know that we both know that nobody will ever know about this. This meeting; this decision... it's a secret.

"I should go," I say.

She nods, and then we walk out together. My family is huddled in the foyer, chatting amicably to Bella's parents as they wait. We say our goodbyes and thank yous, and then we're leaving. I don't know if my father accomplished whatever he wanted to by coming here, but I'm glad we came anyway.

If not for the new number in my phone; then for the brief respite from the endlessness that is the life I've chosen for myself.

And the thing is that I _have_ chosen this.

Or it chose me.

Whatever.

I'm in it now, and there's no going back.

The drive home is quick. It's actually ridiculous how close to one another our families actually live. I could probably walk if I wanted to, which I don't, so I won't.

My father's still mad at me about ditching school, so I barely get a grunt out of him when I mention that I'm headed to bed. This part of the day isn't for me anyway. This _family time_. I've never really been a part of it, and that's okay.

I'm not actually tired, but I need to be in my bedroom. Alone. So I can really go over what's just happened. I just spent the evening with Isabella Swan (and her family) and it's probably the most (legal) fun I've had in forever.

I get ready for bed quickly, changing into pajamas and brushing my teeth. Like I said, I'm not tired, but I _am_ exhausted. How that can be, I'm not sure, but I climb into bed anyway.

I reach for my phone and look up my most recent contact entry. I almost laugh at the name Bella's saved herself as, and I can only wonder what I am on her phone. I reason that it's too early to contact her, so I just set my alarm and put my phone down.

I roll onto my side, close my eyes and promptly fall asleep.

* * *

"You're up early."

I startle at the sound of the voice, and I almost drop the bowl in my hands. I spin on my heel to spy Esme standing in the doorway to the kitchen, dressed in her nightgown, and looking decidedly _still_ asleep.

"I couldn't sleep," I admit. I woke up almost an hour before my alarm, and wasn't able to get back to sleep. So much for a _lie-in_ this Sunday morning.

"Something on your mind?" she asks, wiping sleep from her eyes.

That's a loaded question. "My times have been a little slow lately," I tell her. "I think I'm too distracted."

"By?"

"I don't know," I say, because I really don't. "I thought I might head to the pool today."

"But it's Sunday, Edward," she points out. "It's your rest day."

As true as that is, I don't think I'll be able to sit around all day and not go for a swim. Maybe she sees it on my face, because she sighs.

"Okay, well, eat up then, and I'll have Heidi prepare your after-breakfast for when you get back."

I smile at her. When I first moved onto my high calorie diet, Esme tried to keep up with preparing the meals, but it became too much, on top of work with the firm and the twins, so she eventually outsourced. Whatever my nutritionist says; Heidi Santiago makes.

And so, I have a before-breakfast and an after-breakfast, that occur either side of my early morning training, and are _vastly_ different.

"Don't work yourself too hard," she says unnecessarily, before she disappears from the doorway, and I'm left to finish up my oatmeal in peace.

I probably won't spend too long at the pool, given that I have an entire write-up for Biology to do. Really, I'm convinced I'll just end up going to Rose's house so we can work on it together because I can't even remember what apparatus we used.

Most swimmers at the club skip Sundays. Even some of the staff doesn't come in, which is perfectly fine with me. I like a quiet pool, with still water, my body the only one creating ripples.

I typically have a three-part regimen, but I just want to enjoy the feel of the water today. I've always been worried that dedicating my life to the pool would make me hate it, but I still love the act of swimming. I think that a person has to love it to spend as much time as I do trying to perfect it.

Getting ready for a swim usually shouldn't take long. My shoulder still feels a little tight, so I spend an obscene amount of time stretching my body out before I even consider getting wet. The pool isn't exactly heated but it is indoors, which does help prevent premature shivering. Though, I do end up pruning more often than not.

When I do finally get into the water; it's as if my entire body relaxes. For the long endurance swims, I usually listen to music through my waterproof earphones, but it's just me and the water today. We're about to have a conversation.

My preferred strokes are Freestyle and Backstroke, with Backstroke being the most promising. I tried my hand at butterfly and I'm half-decent, but it's nothing to write home about. Breaststroke's no better, but I work on them tirelessly to improve my Individual Medley times.

I swim for just under two hours, my heart rate rising and dropping accordingly. Because I skipped all the land training and weights, I stretch out thoroughly once I'm out of the water. I have a paper to write. At least, that's the reason I tell myself.

When I get home, my breakfast is waiting. Heidi tells me that Esme and the boys have gone out, and my father's at work.

Surprising.

I wolf down my breakfast, before I take a shower, grab my stuff, and then head to Rose's. She doesn't know I'm coming, but her mom still sends me up to her bedroom. I'm hoping to catch her unawares, possibly find her in pajamas and her hair a mess, but I'm out of luck. She's nothing if not always _prepared_.

"Hey, Bitch," she says, barely looking up at me, from her position on her floor.

I dump my bag on her carpet. "Hi, Douche."

She laughs. She started greeting me with an array of swear words at the beginning of the year, but I've been unable to match her. I try though. "Tell me you've started."

"Have you?"

"Fuck no."

I laugh, as I move to lie down beside her on the floor at the end of her bed. "We're screwed, aren't we?"

She seems to think about it for a moment. "How about we work smartly?"

"Pray, do elaborate."

I listen carefully as she breaks up the work for us, detailing how we can write one paper and then change things up for our separate hand-ins. I don't question her. I figure the only way I'll actually get work done is if I have someone beside me forcing me to.

So we get down to it.

Rose doesn't say much, and I don't say much more either. I think she thinks I'm still mad at her, and I don't think I could reassure her that I'm actually not. She really messed up, and she took us all down with her.

I'm surprised that I wasn't grounded to the nines, if I'm being honest. I think my father's worried that if he pushes too much at this whole father thing; I'll clam up like I did when -

Well, I don't know if I will, but I'm not willing to test it either.

"Done," Rose finally exclaims, startling me. "Well, not really, but I need a break."

I just nod, as I roll onto my back and stretch my legs out. My elbows hurt from keeping myself propped up, but whatever. It should go away eventually.

I feel Rose's hand on my forearm, prompting me to look at her.

She raises her eyebrows. "Tell me something, Cullen."

"What?"

"Why haven't you tried to hook up with me?"

I let out a laugh. "And risk Emmett's wrath; no ways!"

She smiles sadly. "I'm not his property."

"That may be so, but you're still untouchable," I tell her. "On reserve."

Her eyes narrow.

"I'm sorry, Rose, but we both know it's the truth. You're waiting for him as much as he's waiting for you."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means what it means," I say.

She huffs. "So you're not even going to _try_?"

I roll onto my side, so I can look at her properly. "If you need me to tell you I think you're beautiful; all you have to do is ask."

She hits my arm. "You're such an idiot."

I smile. "You are very beautiful, Hale," I say anyway. "The dangerous kind."

"What's that?"

"We'll worship you all our lives."

She nods. "As long as you know."

"I do."

"Good."

We look at each other for a long moment, before she settles it. "We should get back to work."

"Yes we should."

So we do.

We finish up well after dinner, and I'm some other kind of exhausted when I make it home. I've been out all day, and I haven't received a text from anyone in my family, wondering where I am.

I worry that it's my own fault. That I did this, somehow. Something I said; something I did. I don't bother with greeting anyone, as I rush up the stairs towards my bedroom. My eyes burn, but I refuse to believe it's from tears.

Once I'm in the safety of my bedroom, I go about getting ready for bed. I'd better get a good night's rest. After all, I _do_ have to up at four o'clock in the morning.

Which reminds me. I need to set an alarm.

When I reach for my phone, I have the almost unstoppable urge to message Bella.

But I don't.

I wouldn't even know where to begin.


	3. Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home

**Chapter Three: Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home  
**

 **BPOV**

Reasoning makes me text Edward Cullen first. It's nothing big or fancy or even important. I just want to show him that _it's okay_ , because I get the feeling that he would agonize over what to text first, if ever he _wanted_ to. So, I'm essentially opening the door for him, as it were. Or a window.

Just, something.

He responds to my meme during lunch on Monday.

 **Edythe: I know what you're trying to do.**

I can't help my smile. It's odd, really. Until this past week, I probably wouldn't have even _thought_ of Edward Cullen, and now I'm talking to him. Angela would definitely have a coronary if she knew.

I can't stop myself from looking up towards where he's sitting at a table several feet away from ours. As expected, he's busy typing something on his phone and, a moment later, my own buzzes again.

 **Edythe: And thank you, btw. Don't think I'm not grateful. I actually had a whole message planned out about why the sky is blue. It's always bothered me. Why blue, you know? Why not purple? It's a serious issue.**

I shake my head at his antics

 **Edythe: Don't shake your head. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it.**

I freeze.

He was looking at me.

I swallow, as I begin my reply.

 **Beaufort: I don't know what you're talking about.**

 **Beaufort: Also, physics would have me remind you that, courtesy of the sun, blue light is scattered more than other colors in the sky because it travels as shorter and smaller waves, which is why it's the dominant color we see. Sunsets are another story though.**

 **Beaufort: Don't judge my nerdiness.**

I set my phone down and wait. I feel odd. It's almost as if my body knows I'm doing something wrong, but my mind is vehemently denying it.

A moment later, my phone buzzes again, drawing Angela's attention.

"Jake?" she asks.

I shrug. "Could be," I say, because it really could.

But then again, he'd have to be talking to me for it to be him. Let's just say he wasn't too happy about the fact that I didn't end up going to watch him surf. I mean, he's my boyfriend, and I'm totally in this, but where's the fun in watching someone surf?

He wears a wet-suit, so it isn't as if his abs are even on show.

Plus, I had a lot of work to do.

I pick up my phone when it buzzes a second time.

 **Edythe: Deny all you want. I'm on to you.**

 **Edythe: No judgments at all. We embrace nerdiness here on the dark side. Join us.  
**

Angela taps my forearm to get my attention. "We're going for coffee at Army of a Nation. You in?"

"When?"

"Straight after school."

I look around the table. Jasper's focus is on his lunch, and Alice is looking at me curiously, as if she can sense _something_. She's always been a little too observant; too _seeing_. I'll have to be careful around her. But, I mean, I'm not _actually_ doing anything wrong, am I?

I do a quick mental check of my schedule, before I nod, a smile breaking out on my face. "You aren't going to force me to drink coffee, are you?"

Angela laughs. "To this day, it still baffles me how you can survive life without drinking it."

I shake my head. "It still baffles _me_ that you can actually drink that stuff. It's disgusting."

"Some of us can't be energy bunnies like Alice here," Angela says, and we both look at our pixie friend.

"Oh no," Alice says, waving her hands. "Don't drag me into another one of your coffee debates. I'm having hot chocolate."

Angela looks affronted, and I'm just amused.

"With marshmallows, I hope," I say.

"Is there any other way?"

I consider, idly, if I should mention what happened with Jake to my friends. Angela likes him well enough, but Alice hasn't been quiet about how she feels about him. In her eyes, I may as well be dating Emmett McCarty.

And Jasper, well, I'm not sure. I suspect he sides with Alice, but he's never forgotten that he was my friend first. We've also never told Alice about that one time we kissed before they started dating. Really, I want to forget it ever happened, because it felt like incest.

When Angela reaches for my tray, I remember the phone in my hand, and shoot off a quick text to Edward Cullen.

 **Beaufort: Do you have cookies there on the dark side?**

I grab my bag, before I stand and lift Angela's bag. I can feel eyes on me as I make my way towards the dining hall doors to meet up with Angela.

I don't have to look back to know it's Edward Cullen.

* * *

Being _friends_ with Edward is surprisingly easy. I use that term loosely because it isn't as if anything's actually changed. On the outside, that is.

Inside, well, that's an entirely different story.

I can't really explain it. I mean, I'm sure there are parts of Edward that he guards so carefully, keeping them close to his chest, but it's almost surprising just how open he actually is. I'm essentially a stranger, which might actually be the deciding factor.

It just makes me wonder who he actually has to talk to.

We see out the rest of the semester this way. There are secret smiles during Biology, and sometimes we see each other in the library, but our conversations strictly remain in our phones, and I reason it's for the best.

If Angela ever caught wind of the fact that I have a daily chat with the object of her affection; I'd never hear the end of it. Neither would he, for that matter. And, if I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know how I would explain myself. I mean, if Jake ever found out; he'd blow a fuse, and nobody needs to see that.

Nobody.

It isn't until school finally lets out for the summer that Edward and I find ourselves in the same place again, outside of school. Mike Newton throws an end-of-year party every year, and this is just the second one I'm attending. There's no use trying to get out of it, because why would I? Everyone goes.

 _Everyone_.

It doesn't matter who you are or who you're friends with. You go.

We get ready at Alice's house, because her mom's the coolest of all our moms. Angela's mom would balk at the makeup, and mine would probably try too hard to help us get ready. She's been living vicariously through her kids for a while now.

Exams are over, and everyone wants to _get loose_. There's going to be drinking, I'm sure, but Angela and I are resolutely not going to participate. Alice doesn't have the same qualms as we do. Jasper's going to be there.

Angela's parents would kill her, and I don't even want to think about what mine would do.

Well, I doubt my dad would notice.

Okay, that's just cynical.

I sigh.

My mom would probably congratulate me for acting my age, particularly after everything that's happened. Sometimes, she's a difficult woman to please. Since arriving in Seattle, I've been very careful with my life and my love, and I don't need alcohol trying to inhibit that.

"Bella, your phone," Alice says, lifting it off her dresser and tossing it at me. "Who's Edythe?"

I don't answer her, as I look at the screen. Of course, it's a message from Edward, right above a message from Jake. It's a testament to how this week's gone that I open Edward's first.

 **Edythe: She's making me wear green tonight. Something about my eyes. I stopped listening. Also, please tell me I actually get to SEE you tonight.**

I can't help my smile. He's been going on and on about how Rosalie Hale started on him about his wardrobe choices. He does like his dark, dull colors, and I don't really blame her. He'd look good in green.

I'm smiling as I respond.

 **Beaufort: I have no sympathy for you. And, yes, you will get to SEE me tonight. Prepare yourself.**

Almost reluctantly, I read Jake's text. He's going to be late tonight. I'm surprised he's coming at all, really. It _is_ a Waite Academy party, but St Matthew's boys are probably, definitely, going to crash. They're all about the drama. And the booze.

I'd been excited to see him all weak, until, well -

"Ahh," Angela shrieks. "My ear! Oh my God, my ear! How bad is it?"

"Don't use God's name in vain," Alice and I say together, automatically. It's a habit when it comes to Angela. We tease her about it mercilessly.

Alice moves to survey the damage our friend's done with the flat iron, and I contemplate not responding to Jake. It'd be childish not to, right? And I'm anything if not _childish_. I send a quick reply, and then help Angela finish off her hair without further incident.

Once we're ready, Alice's mom, Janice, tells us we look hot and, really, I reckon we do. My skirt is short, shorter than I usually wear, but I find I'm all for it. I just survived my sophomore year in this new place without completely losing it. There were times when I wanted to; when the past threatened to overwhelm me, but I persevered, and here we are.

Angela drives us in her old, red, beat-up _Buggie_ , with Alice riding shotgun. I don't really mind. I like the back. More space, good view.

Mike's street is already packed when we arrive, and we have to park around the block.

"I thought we were early," Alice says, taking out her phone and texting Jasper. "I guess people are keen to get drunk as early as possible."

Angela laughs. "Was the year _that_ bad?"

"I'm just glad that Clapp's contract has _finally_ run out," I say.

Alice rolls her eyes. "Don't lie, Bella; you're going to miss the old fart-bag."

I shrug. "We'll see."

"There's Jazz," Angela says, pointing.

Alice and I follow her gaze, to see Jasper walking with another boy we all know is Jared Wang. Angela squeals because she knows he's friends with Edward, but I know that Jasper and Jared know each other from baseball.

I wonder if Jared's as lost as Edward is when it comes to being friends with Emmett McCarty. Does Jasper help _him_?

"Let's go," Alice says, and we climb out.

The greetings are quick, before we head towards the house. My phone buzzes in my hand, and it's a text from Jake. Apparently, he's leaving home only now. I suspect he's going to pick up some of his friends, so I doubt I'll see him before ten at the earliest.

As we walk, Jasper moves to my side and drops his head to whisper to me: "Do you know if Ben's coming?"

"I don't know," I tell him. "I texted him earlier, but I haven't got a reply. Why?"

"I think I have an idea how to help," he says.

"Oh boy," I say automatically, glancing worriedly at Angela. "Please don't do anything stupid, Jasper Whitlock. Ange's parents think she's at a sleepover at _my house_ right now."

He grins, and I worry for what's about to happen. "Don't worry, my dear Bella."

Like that's going to happen.

The party is loud. Like, _loud_. Mike managed to get a new sound system connected just for tonight, and I can't say that my eardrums appreciate him for it.

I get through the beginning of the party quite well. Alice leads Jasper off to dance, and I think Jared goes to find his own friends, leaving Angela and me to scale the terrain, as it were.

Of course, Angela spots Edward before I do. She has some kind of Edward-radar, I swear. He isn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, but there's just something about our being out of school that makes this whole thing _different_.

He spots me a beat later, but his eyes don't linger. Angela would surely notice if he openly looked at me. I realize for the first time that I've failed to warn him that my best friend would willingly give a limb to have his babies. Maybe he can tell, because he doesn't look my way again.

I was right, of course. He does look good in green, which Angela repeatedly tells me. His eyes _that_ and his eyes _this_. To save myself (or her), I steer her towards the kitchen to get _Coke_ refills before we head out back. We just keep walking, and we keep talking.

Things change when Jake arrives. He's with Sam, Embry and Paul, and it's clear as day that they've already had their pre-drinks somewhere else. I'm less irritated than I should be, but that quickly flares when he sticks his tongue down my throat, and I taste the alcohol.

I push him away, but he just smiles.

"Hi, babe."

I can feel eyes on me. Including Edward's. These days, I've been able to tell his gaze apart from others, which is weird, right?

"Hello," I say, pulling him into a hug, and whisper in his ear: "Are you drunk?"

He pulls back, his bottom lip jutting out. " _Maybe_."

It's Saturday, so it shouldn't be a big deal, but it is, and I don't know why. It triggers the thought that he came here tonight for the booze, and not for me. Also, I suppose I'm still irritated with him for calling me a child. Excuse me for being the type of girl who's unafraid to ask for what she wants.

And what I want right now is my boyfriend to look at _me_ instead of over my shoulder at the keg.

Really, I should have taken it as a sign of things to come.

We start to fight about fifteen minutes later. It's nothing at first, but I'm still irritated and he just can't be bothered to figure out _why_. It doesn't help that I don't tell him. The night doesn't get any better from then on. I can't even say _what_ we fight about, but we do.

I don't expect my tears, and we both don't handle it well. I'm more than just a child now, and the fact that I close myself in a closet doesn't really help with changing opinions. I sink down to the ground and clutch my knees to my chest.

So much for date night.

I feel the door open as a cool gust of air enters and, just as I'm about to tell Jake I don't want to do this anymore; a different voice speaks.

"Here."

My eyes fly open, and I look up to spy Edward kneeling in front of me, looking at me with kind, curious eyes, and a handkerchief held out for me to take. I don't want him to see me like this. I must look hideous.

"Take it," he says, and it reminds me of the _Gatorade_ incident that I like to think started this entire thing. He glances over his shoulder, which I've realized is a nervous tick of his, before he leans towards me and places the handkerchief in my hand, his own fingers cool against mine.

His touch isn't like anything I imagined. Not that I imagined it or anything like that.

"Swan," he whispers. "Please wipe your tears away before I do it for you."

I do as instructed, though I'm tempted not to.

He watches me intensely, and I feel heat rise up my neck. "What happened?" he asks, and I suddenly want to tell him everything. "Swan," he prompts.

"It was just a fight," I say.

"But you're crying."

I wipe at my eyes one last time, and plaster on a smile. "See? Not anymore," I say, handing him back his handkerchief. "Not that I'm not grateful, Edward; but who carries around a handkerchief these days?"

"Oh, it's not mine; I found it on the floor out there."

My eyes widen, but I catch sight of the slight wrinkles next to his perfect eyes. "Oh, you, very funny."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I don't want to lie to him, so I don't answer the question.

He sighs, before he moves to sit down beside me, half hidden by the long coats. We've never sat this close, and I can practically feel the heat of him.

"Do you want me to beat him up?" he asks, and I let out an unexpected laugh, which makes him frown. "What?"

"And risk your injuring your dainty little hands, I wouldn't dream of it."

He looks suitably affronted. "I'm tougher than I look."

"I don't doubt it."

He gives me a look that quickly softens into something else; something I don't recognize. Which isn't strange, given that I don't see enough of him to know all the looks on his face. It's just, well, he really is very handsome.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you in here?"

"Where else would I be?"

I blink. "I'm sure there are a bunch of girls out there who are just dying to make your acquaintance."

He shrugs. "They can wait."

I don't know why I feel so uncomfortable about the idea of him and other girls. He didn't even try to deny it.

"So," he says.

"So?"

"Now that it's summer, we can - "

"We can what?"

He flushes slightly, and I'm surprised I can see it in the dim light. "I was thinking that, maybe, you know, we could, uh, hang out," he says, stumbling over his words. "I mean, like, just normal stuff. Not like - " he pauses. "Never mind, it's stupid."

I look at him, taking in the slight blush on his cheeks and the way he won't meet my gaze. "Like friends?" I ask, and his eyes meet mine. "Like _normal_ friends?"

He waits a beat before his face splits into a wide grin. "Exactly."

I don't think he's spent enough time thinking about what he's asking. He's Edward Cullen. It'd be a big deal if _anyone_ saw us just _hanging out_.

He continues anyway. "We could, umm - " he halts. "Okay, so, I may or may not have a personal chef," he says, that blush only getting brighter. "And we have a movie theatre in our house. So, I mean, we could literally go for a movie, and have a meal, without actually _going_ anywhere."

Okay, so maybe he _has_ given this some thought.

"Edward," I start.

"As friends, Swan," he clarifies, because somebody has to. I have a boyfriend, who I might hate a little bit right now, but I still have a boyfriend.

"Okay," I find myself saying anyway.

His eyebrows practically rise to his hairline. "Okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

"Awesome."

For a moment, I want to hug him. Just, I don't know, to hold him, because he's so pure and so precious at this moment, and somebody has to protect him.

I've just now decided that that person is going to be me.

I don't know for how long we sit there, talking about nothing in particular when my phone starts to ring. I spy the Caller ID, which isn't even necessary, because Angela's face is blown up on my screen. It's a candid shot of her pulling the worst face imaginable. She'll probably kill me if she found out Edward saw it.

I hear him chuckle at the sight, as I answer.

"Where are you?" she asks, once I've mumbled a 'hi.'

 _Hiding_ , I want to say, but I don't. "Where are you?" I counter.

"I was just talking to Alec," she says, sounding rather smug, if not a little weary. She's smug because Alec Marcus is one of Edward's _friends_. I say that because Edward's made it very clear to me that he doesn't like him at all. He reasons that Alec is part of the reason why Emmett acts the way he does.

"He's very nice, you know?" Angela continues. "Cute smile, such a gentleman. He got me a drink and some buffalo wings and a - " she stops to hiccup.

My eyes widen.

"It was weird," she says. "Everything tasted weird. I didn't know buffalo wings could taste so sweet. Or bitter. I don't know." She giggles.

"Angela," I say. "Where are you?"

"In the lounge." She hiccups again. Then: "I think."

"Angela," I repeat, tensing. "Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you." I move the phone away from my ear and peer into Edward's worried eyes. Alec is _sort of_ his friend. I'm sure I'm jumping to conclusions. I'm sure this is nothing.

But.

"What's wrong?" Edward asks.

I'm frozen. I don't know what to do.

Edward places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. "Swan, what's wrong?"

I want so badly to ask him to help me right now, but I don't know how. What can he do? What can _I_ do?

"Bella?"

The sound of my actual name from his lips jolts me into the present moment. "I need you to get Alec," I say.

He frowns. "What?"

"My best friend doesn't drink," I tell him. "But she's a little drunk right now, and she's been talking to Alec, and I just - " I halt when his features harden. For a moment, I think he's going to turn on the defensive, but he doesn't. The boy is just full of surprises, isn't he?

"That bastard," he hisses instead, practically jumping to his feet.

"Edward?"

He puts his hand out, and I take it without hesitation. He pulls me up, and we're standing so close together, I can smell him: laundry detergent, a bit of smoke and _boy_. It's important to note that he doesn't smell like chlorine at all.

"Go and get your friend. Whatever happens; stay focused on her," he instructs me before he leaves the closet.

Despite myself, I wait a beat. I need to calm myself before I step out there. Who knows what I'm going to find?

What happens next is something like a blur. If it wasn't my life, I would think it wasn't actually happening. I find Angela in the living room, sitting on the couch, much too close to the boy that is Alec Marcus.

Before I can even say anything, Edward appears. He says words to Alec, which don't go down well. A moment later, Edward's dragging the other boy away.

As instructed, I move straight towards Angela and survey the damage.

She's drunk. Definitely drunk.

I whip out my phone and dial Alice. I don't get an answer, which isn't surprising. She's not coming home with Angela and me anyway. I panic.

"Angela," I say, forcing her to look at me.

She smiles when her eyes settle on me, and then they drift away again.

"Shit," I murmur.

"Is she okay?"

I turn sharply towards the sound of Edward's voice. I panic for a moment, as I think about everything all at once. I have to get Angela out of here, but I have no idea how to do that. Alice is who-knows-where. Jake is probably plastered drunk somewhere, and I'm not old enough to drive.

"Can you drive?" I ask suddenly.

His eyes widen. "Umm. Technically, yes, but I'm - I don't have a license yet."

I frown.

"Not old enough."

It's the first time I realize that I don't even know when his birthday is. _Friends_ , huh?

"But," he adds; "I have a car."

I frown a bit harder.

"With a driver."

Oh.

"Angela has a car," I say, and Angela perks up at the sound of her name. Her eyes just now settle on Edward, and _oh no_.

She squeals, and people turn to look at us. "You're Edward Cullen," she says loudly, and Edward turns pink right before my eyes.

He looks at me. "Take the car. Take her home."

"What about you?" I ask.

"He'll come back for me."

"But her car," I start to say.

"Just take her home. We can worry about it later."

His use of pronoun gets to me, and I start to nod. I like the idea of having him _in_ this with me.

"Are you okay to get her outside?" he asks; "I need to call Felix and tell him what's up."

"I think I'll manage."

He nods once before he disappears from the room. I look down at Angela, whose eyes are wide in disbelief.

"Yes," I say coyly; "that was Edward Cullen."

"Wow," she says breathlessly.

I manage to coax her to her feet, and she leans heavily on me as we shuffle out of the house. I'm not bothered to tell Jake that I'm leaving, but I make a note to shoot Alice a text once we're in the car.

The car.

It's a black _Mercedes Benz_ with tinted windows, and I feel so uncomfortable climbing inside.

But Angela.

"Evening, Miss Swan, Miss Weber," the driver, Felix, says once Angela and I are safely in the backseat.

"Umm, hi." My eyes flick out the window, but I don't see the green-grey eyes I need to.

"Will you be returning to your home, or to a different address?" Felix asks me.

"Uh, to my home, please," I say.

"Of course," he says, shifting the car into gear. "Do let me know if you require us to make an additional stop. Mr. Edward told me to ensure that you had Aspirin."

I glance at Angela, who's plastered her face against the cool window. "I believe we have some at home."

"Of course."

And that's that. Really, it's one of the strangest conversations I've ever had, and I've had some strange ones.

Angela talks to herself as the city buildings - I mean, suburbs - of Seattle fly by, and I try to still my trembling hands. I focus on texting Alice, and Jasper for good measure. Whatever he had planned must have failed, or it hadn't started. Where the hell did Alec even come from?

It's silent from Edward, which is weird, but I suspect he's returned to the party now that the basket-case and her drunk best friend have left.

When we get to my house, I hesitate. I discussed tonight's party with my parents, and I was given an extended curfew until one o'clock. Right now, it's barely midnight. How am I supposed to explain Angela?

Felix waits patiently.

"Miss Swan?"

I look up.

"Might I say that the truth always seems to work out well for me."

I nod thoughtfully. "Thank you," I say.

"You are very welcome," he says, before he climbs out and comes to open the door for me. I coax Angela out again, and she's talking about lions and fancy chandeliers and oh wow.

My parents are in the TV lounge, and my mom appears in the foyer when she hears the door open. Her eyes widen at the sight of us, and I shake my head.

"It's a long story," I say.

She's quick to usher us upstairs before my dad shows his face. It's a good thing she does, too, because -

We're lucky.

We're safely in my room when Angela pukes for the first time. She makes it to my bathroom, and I hold her hair up. It's a cliché, really, and I hate it. I hate that any of this is even happening right now. I help her clean up before we go back into my room, where my mom is ready with two glasses of water and _a lot_ of Aspirin.

Our bags are in Angela's car, so she puts on some of my pajamas, before my mom and I get her settled into my bed and slowly lull her to sleep. Apparently, the thing to do now is let her sleep it off.

I almost start crying when I tell my mom what happened.

"Edward?" she queries. "As in, Edward Cullen?"

I nod because, of course, that's the part of the story that she pays attention to.

She blinks, shakes her head, and then sighs. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart." I can feel the weariness in her words. I think she wants to say more, possibly go on a tirade about being careful and vigilant, and probably demand the expulsion of one Alec Marcus, but we all know the reality.

We've been here before.

Sometimes it doesn't matter.

Angela should have been more aware, and Alec should have been a decent human being.

"Try to get some sleep," she says, sounding more defeated than I feel. I suspect it has something to do with my dad, but I'm not in the mood to deal with their problems on top of my own tonight.

"Goodnight, Mom," I say.

She drops a kiss on the top of my head, and then leaves.

I watch her go, before I turn my attention to Angela, who's still in and out. She looks at me. Well, at a spot on my shoulder, I think.

"Bella," she says; "were you talking to Edward Cullen?"

I laugh, because what else can I do? Even in almost-slumber, she still refers to him by his name and surname. "Try to get some sleep, Ange," I say, echoing my mom.

She rolls over. "Because it'd be cool if you were."

Hmm.

I blink back tears as I watch her. I should have been with her. I should have been looking out for her like I promised I would when her mother drew me aside earlier. I suspect she knew we were going out, and now look what's happened.

My phone buzzes on my dressing table. I glance at the time. It's quite late.

With a heavy sigh, I stand up and cross the room to retrieve it. I'm surprised but altogether not when it's a text from Edward.

 **Edythe: Hi. Just checking in. How's Angela doing?**

Another buzz.

 **Edythe: I'm sorry tonight was such a disaster.**

My heart stills for a moment. I wonder if he's actually this pure at heart, or if he's just desperate for a friend. I haven't been able to tell, and I'm not sure if I actually want to know.

I take a breath before I type my reply.

 **Beaufort: Hi back. She's out like a light, but otherwise doing good. Thanks for checking in.**

 **Beaufort: It's not your fault.**

I wait for a reply that doesn't come. Instead, my phone starts to ring, and I just stare at the screen, frozen. This is the first time he's called. It's the first time we'll speak over the phone, and I feel as if it's a boundary we're crossing. I don't know if I'm ready.

I tap the green button anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hi." His voice is velvet, but I can hear the concern and weariness in it.

"Hi back," I say.

"I hope this is okay," he whispers. "I just - I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I smile despite myself. He really is precious. "I'm okay," I assure him, but it comes out sounding flat.

"Sure you are."

I want to be indignant. I also want to get mad. It's something that Jake would say, but it sounds different coming from Edward. He's not trying to insult me; he's just trying to help.

"Are you planning on getting any sleep?" he asks.

"Probably not," I confess. "I don't think I can, even if I try. I'm just - " I stop and suck in a deep breath. "I feel responsible."

He doesn't try to tell me I'm not, which is something I appreciate.

"I'm her best friend," I continue. "I should have been with her, but I was in a closet, _crying_ , because my boyfriend was a jackass and I'm too much of a weakling to - " I stop again, my breath catching. I hate this.

"Bella." His voice is so soothing; I even press the phone closer to my ear. I wonder if he's abandoned calling me by my surname. "Can I say something?"

"I'm listening."

"I think you are wonderful," he says quietly. "And not just because of tonight, but because of the way you _care_. So deeply, so passionately. I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but the fact that you're so crushed about this says a lot about you." He takes a breath. "So, yes, something terrible _could_ have happened tonight, but it didn't. It didn't. Which means it was never meant to happen. We learned something from tonight; something important. So now we carry it with us, and we try not to get into situations like these again. Okay?"

I secretly love his use of pronouns, though I don't say so. "Thank you, Edward."

"For what?"

I let out a breath. "For letting me use your handkerchief."

"It's not mine, remember?"

I laugh lightly, and I'm relieved to find I can still laugh. Even tonight. "I think she heard us, you know?"

"Hmm?"

"Angela," I say. "Before she saw you and practically _squealed_... maybe when we were in the closet, and she was on the other end of the line; I think she heard us talking. She'll probably think she was dreaming though. I suspect she has numerous dreams about you."

He coughs. "Wait, what?"

"She's a little bit in love with you," I inform him.

"Wow."

"Don't be surprised," I say. "A healthy portion of the school's female population has a crush on you."

"Where do you fit in?" he asks, and I feel the heat rise up my neck.

"Personally, I find _Speedo_ s greatly disturbing."

He laughs. Honest to God laughs, and I can't help my own smile. "I don't wear a _Speedo_ , Bella. I'm a swimmer, not a diver."

"I suppose I'll just have to see it for myself."

"I suppose you will."

It's at times like these that I wonder if there's a line I'm crossing. Sure, _he's_ allowed to be flirty and coy, but what am I doing? I mean, technically, I just said I would go and support my friend when he swims, but why did it sound so suggestive?

Edward clears his throat. "So I may or may not have decked Alec after you left."

I gasp. "What!"

Angela shifts on my bed, and I turn away, dropping the volume of my voice.

"Edward?" I rush. "What did you do?"

He waits a beat. "Okay, so, he was being an asshole, and he wasn't even a little bit sorry that he'd given her alcohol when she was very clear that she didn't want any, and I guess I just got so mad. I mean, it's one thing to do it, but to show absolutely no remorse about it... I think he's a psychopath; I really do."

I blink. "Why'd you punch him?"

"For the record, he swung at me first. I just retaliated." He lets out a puff of breath. "I told you I was tougher than I looked. My dainty little hands are unhurt."

"You punched him?" I ask, stupidly needing the clarification.

"He's definitely going to bruise."

I'm still in a state of disbelief. "Wow."

"It would have been awkward at school on Monday, so it's a good thing the year is over."

"How do you reckon it's going to affect your friendship now?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits. "I wasn't ever really that friendly with him anyway. He's more Emmett's friend, so there's no loss for me. But he is vindictive, so there are other ways for him to make me hurt, as it were."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter right now," he says to placate me. He must know how I'm going to worry.

"Edward."

"Bella."

"Edward."

"Goodnight."

I let out a breath. "Goodnight."

"I'll check in on you in the morning," he finishes. "Try to sleep. Even if you think you can't, try anyway."

I sigh heavily.

"For me?"

"Okay," I say with no hesitation.

"What are you worried about?" he asks, continuing the conversation despite the abrupt bids of goodnight.

"Lots of things."

"Tell me."

"I'm worried about how this will affect Angela," I tell him. "She's already a conservative, heart-on-her-sleeve kind of girl, and I hate that someone, _anyone_ could just see it and take advantage of it. I'm worried this is just the beginning of what I feared high school was like. I'm worried that - "

"What, Bella?"

"I guess I'm also worried about Angela's car," I tell him, hoping he'll drop it.

He does. "Do you want me to take care of that?" he asks. "Because I can."

"No, it's okay."

"I don't mind."

I sigh. As much as I'd love to let him _take care of it_ \- whatever that means in Edward Cullen speak - it's too much. He's already done enough. He's done so much. "It's okay," I say.

"Okay," he finally says, and I hear the defeat. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward."

He hangs up first, and I fight a yawn. I set my phone down, and go for a shower. I think I need it, just to calm myself. My mind is spinning, and my body is tense. Tonight should not have happened. _I_ should know better.

The shower helps.

I get dressed quickly, grab my phone and then get into bed. Thankfully, Angela doesn't stir. The room is dark, but my eyes hurt and I'm getting a migraine.

Still, I check my phone. I have one message. From Edward.

 **Edythe: I'm sorry if I pushed. I just want you to know that it's okay to let me do things for you. I want to. Goodnight X**

I smile.

 **Beaufort: Don't be. I know, and thank you :) Goodnight X**

I make sure it's on silent, before I set it on my nightstand, roll over, and try to sleep. I don't know how it happens, but it does.

The sun is shining bright when I next open my eyes.

Angela is still dead to the world, and I think it's best to let her sleep until she can't anymore. She's probably going to be sporting a pretty nasty headache when she does wake up. Poor thing.

I roll out of bed and visit the bathroom. The house is quiet when I emerge from behind my bedroom door, and I head down the stairs to find my mom in the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands and a boiling pot of something on the stove.

"Hi, Sweetheart," she says when she sees me.

"Hi."

"How's Angela?"

"Still asleep."

She nods thoughtfully. "You know we're going to have to talk about this with your father, right?"

I also nod.

That's it. I didn't come downstairs for this. I turn to go, but her voice stops me.

"Oh, Bella, here," my mom says, reaching for something on the counter, and then holding it out for me. It's a set of keys. "I believe these belong to Angela."

I frown. "Huh?"

"A man dropped them off early this morning," she says. "Felix, he said. Told me that he had the car washed and delivered in one piece. It's parked out front."

My mouth must be hanging open.

"I assume young Edward had something to do with this?"

I just about nod.

"That's very... nice of him."

I don't really understand her tone, but I'm still in a bit of shock. I told him. I _told_ him. "Yeah," I say, taking the keys from her. How did he even get the keys? Did Angela leave them in her car? "It is."

I rush back up the stairs, find my phone and shoot him a text.

 **Beaufort: I'm starting to think you don't listen. What is Angela's car doing outside my house right now?**

His reply is almost instant.

 **Edythe: Good morning to you too. I assume it drove itself. Cars are amazing things, you know. Maybe it went all _Lightning McQueen_ on you.  
**

 **Beaufort: Edythe.**

 **Edythe: Beau.**

 **Beaufort: Did you just shorten my name?**

 **Edythe: Maybe. I thought you'd like it, seeing as you're so AGAINST people using your full name.**

I've never really told anyone other than my family why.

 **Beaufort: Angela's car. How? Why? Just.**

 **Beaufort: Thank you.**

 **Edythe: You're welcome.**

I sigh.

This boy.

He's, single-handedly, going to bring about my ruin. I just know it.


	4. The Story Left Untold

**Chapter Four: The Story Left Untold  
**

 **EPOV**

Okay.

Okay.

 _Just breathe, Edward_.

I feel exposed. I mean, holy shit, right now Bella Swan is in my bedroom. She's in my space, looking at my things. It's one thing to text her, another to talk to her on the phone, but she's right here. In front of me. Breathing the same air as I am.

It's been a week since I found her crying in that closet at Mike's house, and she looks so different. Undisturbed, really. I haven't asked her about it all week, and she hasn't brought it up either. I suspect she wants to forget it happened at all.

She did tell me that Angela is fine, if a little embarrassed. She's convinced that Angela's sworn off parties for years to come. I wish Bella knew that isn't even the worst one I've been to. They're lucky, really. If Alec had been older, maybe more experienced; he would have used something other than alcohol.

So Bella's here. I took her on a quick tour of the house. She didn't say all that much; just nodded and smiled, her eyes widening at times.

It's a big house. Lots of glass, three levels and, yeah... It's big. I'm not sure how I feel about it, if I'm being honest. My friends love it. There's so much to do. The pool is great. The courts. The game systems. My _PlayStation_. It's all great.

It's why they visit, isn't it?

I'm sure they'd come around even if I wasn't here.

But Bella's here. In my room. _With me_.

It's equal parts terrifying and exciting. I feel as if she's just taking it all in, filing it away somewhere to consider later. Like a real therapist, who knows? She's looking around now, her eyes rarely lingering on anything until they just do. She steps towards my pin-up board above my desk, where I have a large map of the world pinned.

"What are these?" she asks, her fingers reaching out to touch one of many a red pin. "Places you want to go?"

"Places I've been," I correct, and her eyes widen. "Swimming kind of takes me places. I like to keep track of all of them. It kind of makes me feel as if I've actually accomplished something."

Her eyes meet mine for a moment, and the ridiculous feeling of sounding stupid disappears. "So, you like traveling?"

"Love it," I say. "I'm headed to Singapore next."

"When?"

"August." I don't mention Irvine, California, because why should I? It's definitely not as glamorous as Singapore.

She lets out a breath. "What's happening in Singapore?"

"The Youth Olympic Games."

She smiles at me. "I didn't even know there was such a thing."

"It's new," I tell her. "The first of its kind."

She nods thoughtfully, her intelligent eyes taking in the other pins. "No South Africa, huh?" she asks, clearly referring to the World Cup that's just begun.

I shake my head. "My father wanted to go, maybe catch a few of the World Cup games, but _work_." I don't mention how a trip abroad that's _not_ for swimming would just mess with my training schedule. Not many people understand my dedication, and I don't want to scare her away.

She nods her head in understanding, because she _does_ understand, doesn't she? Our fathers are workaholics if I've ever met one.

"Are you as obsessed with following the competition as my brothers are?" she asks.

"Yes, and no," I admit. "I mean, I downloaded the app, so I'm up to speed, but I doubt I'll watch as religiously as Riley."

"It's intense," she says, almost shuddering. "Jake's got an entire chart up in his room. I don't even know how to compete with that."

I ignore everything to do with those words, because Bella is here in _my_ room, and how on earth could it ever be a competition?

"I'm rooting for Spain though," she says.

"Why?"

"Fernando Torres is hot."

I laugh, forcibly stopping myself from going into a ramble about player statistics and how he just 'sucked' after his move from Liverpool to Chelsea. Or, really, after he dyed his hair; as Rose puts it.

Her eyes return to the map. "Quite a few places in Canada," she says.

"I'm half-Canadian," I say, stepping towards her. "Well, I was born in Vancouver. Most of my father's family lives in Toronto."

She looks confused.

"It's a long story."

She checks her watch. "It's the summer, so my curfew's been lifted to midnight. You have like six hours."

I can't help my grin. "I'd rather hear the Bella Swan story first," I counter, and she huffs.

"Fine, but promise I get the Edward Cullen one afterward?"

"I promise."

I'm awarded with a significant glare before she sinks down onto one of the beanbags in front of my television. I like the fact that she doesn't care about how she looks as she does it.

I drop down to the floor, prop myself up against the end of my bed with my legs stretched out in front of me, and give her my undivided attention.

"Where to start..."

"How about the day you were born?" I offer.

She lets out a laugh. "Oh boy." She runs a hand over her face. "So, I was induced labor, right? It was supposed to be smooth sailing but, after a full day of unbearable, soul-crushing pain - her words - I ended up being a C-Section. My mom wasn't very happy. It's a miracle at allshe had more kids after me at all."

I laugh.

"It just makes me wonder if I actually want to push a baby out of my body."

I tilt my head to the side. "You don't want kids?"

"It's not that I don't want them; I just don't want to have to birth them."

I smile. "So, adoption? Surrogacy?"

"All of the above," she answers with a smile, and I realize that maybe she's kidding. She wants kids, however they come. "What about you? Do you want children?"

"I think so," I say. "It's either I want like five of them or none at all."

Her eyes widen. "Five?"

"I want a big, all-inclusive family," I tell her, and her eyebrows shoot up at my choice of words.

Thankfully, Heidi's voice through my bedroom's intercom stops her from questioning me.

"Edward, sweetie, your milkshakes are ready," she says. "I've just started on the popcorn. Why don't you two come on down and pick your flavors?"

I stand immediately, and hold out my hand. She stares at it for a moment, before she takes it, and I pull her to her feet. I'm sorely tempted not to release her, but I do. I have to. This is all so weird.

I have to remind myself that she has a boyfriend.

Sometimes I feel as if I have to remind _her_ as well.

I hear the sound of the popping before we enter the kitchen, and I automatically smile. I love popcorn. With the butter. With everything. Sunday may be my rest day, but I go all out on the junk food on Saturday nights. My coach would probably keel over if he ever knew.

I can tell that Heidi likes Bella, just from the way her face lights up when we enter. She's never really looked at me like that, but it doesn't bother me as much as it should. I'd probably look at Bella like that as well. Wait. How _do_ I look at her?

We spend an obscene amount of time getting our popcorn to taste perfect, and she practically balks at the fact that I pour _two_ packets of _M &Ms_ into my bowl of popcorn.

"Try it," I say, and she does. She'll thank me later.

Once we're ready, I lead the way to our movie theatre, my popcorn in one hand and my milkshake in the other. I've opted for vanilla today, and Bella's gone for bubblegum. I think she was surprised by the array of flavors, though she didn't say anything.

Maybe our house isn't _that_ surprising to her.

We haven't actually decided on a movie, but it doesn't take us long. It's a classic, of course, and I reckon she's surprised that I agree. Maybe she expects me to put up a fight. Maybe Jake would.

She gets settled while I put the movie in and grab the remote.

"Edward?"

I spin on my heel to look at her.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," I say, as I move to sit down in the seat next to hers. "What's up?"

"If you had the chance to change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"

It's a question that's come out of nowhere, and I worry for a moment before I accept that she'll get to whatever's bothering her in her own time. I'm not going to push.

"Hmm," I sound, visibly thinking. "What are we talking about here? Some physical attribute? An aspect of my personality?"

"Anything."

I blink. What would I change? "I think I'd want to be more," I say before I can stop myself.

She frowns. "More what?"

"Just, _more_ ," I say. "Maybe, that way - " I stop.

"Edward?"

"I know it doesn't make sense, Bella, but I reckon I'd just like to be more."

She looks confused, but I'm not ready to explain. How do I even tell her that I'm not enough; that I've never been? She reaches for my hand and squeezes gently. Her fingers are warm in mine, and my heart stutters at the sensation.

"Why are you asking?" I ask casually, as I take my hand back and run it through my hair.

"I've been thinking about it," she says. "We're always trying to fix ourselves based on what other people think and say about us. I don't want to be that person who tries to change to please someone else."

"Who says you have to change?"

She looks away from me. "Do you know why we left Ohio?"

I shake my head. "I didn't even know Ohio was where you came from."

"Ah, right," she says, shaking her head. "We barely got into the Bella Swan story."

"I'm listening," I say, abandoning the remote and turning my body to face her. I absently grab for my popcorn, my eyes never straying from her face.

She giggles softly. "Well, I was born in Columbus, Ohio, on the thirteenth of September in 1994."

I'm younger than the majority of my grade, so I'm relieved that I'm older than her. It seems that she _just_ made the cut. Otherwise, she'd be a sophomore only _now_. Perhaps they deemed her smart enough to handle it. Little genius.

"I grew up in Columbus, with all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents," she goes on. "It's one of those boring childhood stories, you know? Happy people, all the love, it's sometimes frightening."

I guess I had half of that.

"Riley is two years younger than me, and Max was born in 2003. Sorry, I don't feel like doing the math right now."

I chuckle.

"My dad's always been a hard worker. He resisted promotion because he knew we'd have to move, and that wasn't really an option. Our entire family is there, and I guess that leaving wasn't really an option for us."

There's something coming; I can feel it.

"Early in 2008, something happened," she says. "I'll tell you about it some time, but it happened, and my dad ended up taking the job. He did it for me." She looks away. "I know they say it was about the job and our family's future and all that, but I know it was for me. I brought our family here, to the rain.

"I mean, we're so far from our family, Edward. We knew nobody when we arrived, and - it just, it hasn't been easy, and I feel responsible. But then, I don't think I could have stayed in Columbus anyway."

I'm a little confused, and I suspect it shows on my face.

"I'm sorry," she says. "You probably have no idea what I'm talking about."

"I don't," I admit; "but I'm trying."

"Thank you."

I smile gently.

"I won't change who I am," she says.

"And I won't ask you to."

"What if you never actually _ask_? What if it's just implied? What if it's out there in the jokes you make or the words you say, and you don't even recognize it?"

I realize quite quickly that we're not talking about me. We never were.

She sighs heavily before she laughs. "So, that movie, huh?"

I give her a worried look before I reach for the remote. Maybe she needs a moment to compose herself. Even if she doesn't, I still give it to her. I think _I_ need it.

We settle in to watch _It Takes Two_ , and I feel light. Bella's sitting next to me, fully engrossed in the movie, her hands occasionally moving as she drinks her milkshake and eats her popcorn. It's all so normal, but not at the same time. She laughs at all the appropriate times, and gushes over just how cute, and little, the Olsen twins were.

It amazes me that she's actually able to fall asleep, but she does. Her head lolls to one side, her mouth hanging open, and I can't get over how peaceful she looks. She gave me her number that night because she was convinced that she could help me, but I think we're going to be helping each other.

I get up to fetch a light blanket and lay it over her before I settle back down and watch the rest of the movie. She's making me feel as if I have to protect her, but then I also know that she can take care of herself.

It's odd.

When the movie ends, I put another one on but don't press play. Instead, I go looking for Heidi. Bella and I didn't really discuss what we wanted for dinner, but I doubt we can go wrong with pizza. Everybody loves pizza.

"I'll call you to choose your toppings once I've got everything set up," Heidi tells me before I thank her and rush back to the theatre to find that Bella's awake, her fingers rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I thought you left."

I raise my eyebrows. "I kind of live here, Bella."

She laughs. "I mean - never mind."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

I shrug. I'm not about to tell her that she looked so beautiful and peaceful, that I wouldn't dream of interrupting her sleep. There are just things that one cannot say.

"Where's the bathroom?" she asks.

"Forgotten already?"

"You have a big house."

I gesture for her to follow me, and I lead her to the bathroom. "Reckon you can find your way back?"

"Shut up."

I laugh. "See you in a bit."

 _A bit_.

She doesn't come back. I have to go looking, only to find her sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, chatting easily to Heidi.

"Okay, what happened?" I ask, as I enter the kitchen.

"Don't laugh."

"You got lost," I state. "Was the pizza calling to you?"

"What if I told you I'm lactose intolerant?"

"You're not."

"How do you know?"

"I've eaten at your house, Bella," I inform her. "I've seen you chow down on cheese broccoli as if it's going out of fashion."

"Oh, hush."

I smile. "So, have you decided on your toppings then?"

"Have you?"

"I usually just go for pepperoni," I tell her. "I'm kind of boring."

"Yeah, I noticed that when you had a vanilla milkshake."

"Don't hate," I say; "it's a classic."

"Are you about to make some strange comment about your being a classic then?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She smiles at me, and it's the settling kind. I was worried that we'd approached a topic she wasn't comfortable with, but she looks almost sheepish now as we throw words back at each other in easy banter, simultaneously getting our pizzas sorted.

"Are you usually home on a Saturday night?" Bella asks me.

"Are you usually free on a Saturday night?" I counter.

She's quiet, and so am I.

We stare at each other; Heidi temporarily forgotten.

She caves first. "Saturday night is usually my date night with Jake," she says. "But, I guess, since last week, we didn't feel like seeing each other."

" _We_?"

"Okay, _I_ didn't feel like seeing him," she says. "I'm kind of mad it took him so long to realize I'd left the party."

"How long?" I ask.

She drops her gaze for a moment. "Late Sunday," she says softly. "I imagine that he passed out at some point, and then woke up and went about his day. I imagine someone must have said something to him, and it clicked." She scowls for a moment. "And, of course, it was _my_ fault that I made him worry."

My fists clench automatically.

"Anyway," she says; "why are _you_ home?"

"Emmett's sided with Alec," I tell her. "I'm not sure what bullshit Alec told him, but Emmett's convinced _I'm_ in the wrong and should never have punched the prick." My eyes flick to Heidi, who's wearing a frown at the sound of my swearing. I shoot her an apologetic look before I continue. "It's annoying, I guess, but I didn't plan on going anywhere anyway."

"Your family's gone out?"

This time, I drop my gaze. "Yes," is all I say, and she doesn't question it.

Heidi clears her throat. "Are those pizzas ready?"

I nod as I slide mine towards her.

Bella does the same, and I can't help being relieved that she too, bypassed the pineapple. As much as I love the yellow fruit, it has absolutely no business being on a pizza.

"I put in another movie," I tell her. "Or are you keen to just hang?"

Her eyes dance with mirth. " _Hang_?"

I nod.

"Who even says that anymore?"

"I do."

She regards me for a moment, a soft smile on her lips. "Let's go watch that movie of yours," she says, and she regrets it almost immediately. Bella, apparently, isn't a horror movie fan, and I'm forced to make it up to her somehow.

Apparently, just the first few minutes of _Saw_ is disturbing and scarring. She's cowering before it even gets gruesome, and I'm forced to press stop.

"Wuss."

"Shut up," she counters.

I regard her for a moment. "You do know it's not real, right?"

"I know."

"But?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only person in the world who has irrational fears, Edward."

"You're definitely not," I say. "I'm terrified of sharks." I glance over my shoulder out of habit. "When I was little, I never used to be able to swim by myself. I couldn't stop myself from thinking that there was a shark in the deep end of the pool."

She smiles widely. "That's so cute."

I shake my head. "Sometimes I still think it," I admit. "The goggles help though. They help me make sure there's nothing actually in there."

"Is that why you swim so fast?" she asks, amusement lacing her tone. "Scared of the sharks coming for you?"

I grin at her. "Exactly."

We stare at each other for a long moment, and it's borderline unsettling. I suspect that she might ask the question of what we're actually doing here, because I don't know. We're _hanging_. Whatever that means.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we go back to what we were discussing earlier?"

I take a breath. "You've changed your mind about how many kids you want then?"

She smiles warmly. "Maybe," she says.

I sigh. "Is he asking you to change, Bella?" I ask, and we both know I'm talking about Jacob Black. I don't really know him because we're not in the same year and we also don't go to the same school, but I do know that I don't like him. I came to that opinion long before he and Bella even started dating though. I think it's important to make that distinction.

"I'm only fifteen," she says; "how much _changing_ can I do when I'm still figuring out who I am? I mean, I'm right to feel - " she stops.

"Feel what?"

"I guess I feel a little lost, you know?"

It's amazing what a week can do. I absently wonder what's really been going on, but I won't ask. How can I? "I do know," I tell her. "I feel lost all the time."

Her eyes meet mine. "We're helping each other, aren't we?"

"I know you're helping _me_ ," I tell her; "I can only hope I'm doing the same for you."

"You are," she says, "though this choice of movie leaves much to be desired."

I huff. "All right then, Swan; what do you want to watch?"

She pats my forearm before she stands and moves towards the selection of movies. There are so many of them, and I wonder what she'll end up picking. I think it'll be a comedy, until she surprises me by choosing the thriller, _Prom Night_.

I just watch as she swaps out _Saw_ , and then comes to sit back down, pulling the light blanket over and around her. It isn't exactly cold, but I think it's more for comfort at this point. I wait until she's settled, and then I dim the lights and press play on the remote. I haven't watched this movie before and, oh shit.

Bella finds it hilarious how uncomfortable I am with the suspense.

"It's not funny," I say.

"Now you know how I feel about the horror."

"Was this your plan all along?"

She doesn't answer me; just turns back to the screen. "Ssh," she says; "he's coming."

"Who dies first?" I ask. "And when?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

I sit tensely as the movie goes on, my eyes widening at times. How do people sit through things like this without having a heart attack? It can't be good for a person's health, can it?

It's probably the most suspenseful moment in the movie, and the sound of Heidi at the door makes both Bella and I scream. Like, properly _scream_. I fumble with the remote, and Bella's nails dig into my forearm. My heart is racing, and Heidi looks so amused. She probably planned it.

"I'm interrupting something?"

I press pause, and clutch at my chest. "Heidi," I say; "you totally did that on purpose, did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says casually, as she strolls into the room with a tray in her hand. "I just thought you might like your pizzas."

I glare, because I can't help it. It bounces right off of her, as she sets the tray down on the armrests between Bella's chair and mine. The pizzas smell divine, and Heidi's already sliced them and poured us two glasses of _Gatorade_.

"Thank you," Bella says.

"Sure thing, Sweetie," she says, before she looks at me.

"I could have died," I say.

"You need some spice in your life," she says with a shrug.

"How about some water?"

"Ice?"

"Yes please."

I watch as she leaves, and I can still feel my heart beating in my throat.

"Are you okay?" Bella asks.

"Are you?"

She smiles, her fingers sliding over my wrist. "Your heart is beating so fast."

"Yes, it is."

She giggles. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't laugh, but it's a little funny."

"Eat your pizza."

"Yes, sir."

Heidi comes and drops off my water, and then I start on my own pizza. Bella doesn't prompt me to press play again, and I'm secretly grateful. We eat in silence for a while, and it's always going to be her who breaks it.

"So, Heidi mentioned it's your birthday soon," she says, her eyes on me as we both chew on our respective slices.

I groan. "Of course she did," I mutter.

"Eight days, Edward. Were you even going to tell me?"

"Probably not," I admit.

"Why not?"

I frown slightly, trying to think of what to tell her. The truth would just be depressing, and I don't really want to ruin the evening. "Let's just say I don't really have good memories attached to it," I tell her and, thankfully, she leaves it at that.

"Sweet sixteen is a big deal," she says. "I'd imagine you'd throw a big bash and all that."

"You'd imagine wrong," I say, unsure whether or not I should feel insulted by the assumption. "I'd probably just have a barbecue out by the pool."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"Emmett's coming over anyway, so, yeah," I say with a shrug. "Rose too, I suspect. Nothing's planned. Just my friends, and a cake. It'll be the talk of the town."

"Your parents aren't planning something?"

"Who knows?" Because, really, I don't know. "My father is well aware of my aversion to my birthday, so it's doubtful he'll do anything extravagant." I look away for a moment. How do I tell her? _What_ do I tell her?

"When's your driver's test then?" she asks, switching topics.

"The following Saturday."

She does a little dance in her chair. "That's so exciting. I thought I'd run out of friends to freak out with, but here you are."

"Here I am," I echo, because we're friends. "We're friends."

"Yes ,we are."

I grin, and she returns it.

We're friends.

* * *

"Thank God you're finally sixteen," Emmett says, and I'm pretty glad too. He claps my shoulder with his large left hand, and my entire body shakes. I may be lean and muscular, but Emmett is _built_. His father's been grooming him for football since before I met him. His father had a dream, and now Emmett has to fulfill it.

Tonight, we're going out to celebrate my _coming of age_.

After I passed my driver's test this morning, Esme took the boys and me out for a celebratory ice-cream. She promised that my father would be home later, but I didn't bother hoping. I just went to training, where my club mates sang a quick 'happy birthday,' before we got down to business.

After training, I got home to find a car parked in the driveway. Seeing as my father is associated exclusively and only with _Mercedes Benz_ , it isn't a surprise that my sixteenth birthday present is a brand new, white, _Mercedes_ _Benz_ _C220_. It's a rather sporty car without actually being one, and I suspect my father and Esme had to come to a compromise when deciding.

Really, I'm surprised they'll let me drive at all.

It's a car, so I should be over the moon, but it feels flat. Kind of like my father and Esme discussed it, picked it out of a catalog, and that was that. It's nothing like the rainbow-coloured _Speedo_ Bella thought was funny to give me as a birthday present.

I took the car for a spin to appease Esme anyway, and then headed upstairs to shower and change. Emmett arrived half an hour later, and his booming voice filled the massive house as if we lived in a matchbox.

We're in my room now though, and he's playing video games while I finish getting ready. He seems to have got over whatever beef Alec tried to cause, but I'm not so sure we'll ever be the friends we once were. It's not to do with anything that's happened recently, but Bella has me thinking we're both growing in different directions.

My direction is towards something, and his is away from something else.

When Rose arrives, I'm the one to compliment her on how beautiful she looks. Emmett calls her hot. She blushes, but I'm unsure if it's his or my compliment, or both. Whichever, they're both true.

"Ready to go?" Emmett asks me. "Why are you getting all pretty anyway? Which lucky girl are we going to see?"

For a terrifying moment, I think of Bella. Is my subconscious telling me to spend extra time on my appearance because I may or may not see Bella? Sweet Jesus.

"There is, isn't there?" Emmett questions, his eyebrows rising. "No ways. Who is she?"

I notice the way Rose's eyes suddenly focus on me. It makes me feel uneasy. We're all at the age where dating is practically the norm. I mean, so many people in our year are already in relationships, both physical and emotional. I remember Esme once mentioning that trios were _interesting_. I've seen TV shows. Love triangles are nasty little things, and I'm worried that one or two of those vertices are going to force issues for me.

"She's nobody," I say.

"Oh, Eddie," Emmett practically sings. "You know we're not going to believe that. Is she coming tonight?"

Yes. "No," I say.

Rose raises her eyebrows. "Is she one of your swimmer friends?"

Oh, thank you, Rosalie Hale. "Sort of," I tell her.

Rose just nods, but Emmett looks like he wants to fish for more.

"Is she hot?" Emmett asks.

"Emmett." It's Rose, the warning clear in her tone. She clearly doesn't want to know, and I don't really want to say anything more either. Calling Bella hot feels a little distasteful to me, even though she is.

We take ages to leave. Felix drives us because I'm sure there's going to be drinking. When isn't there? It's Saturday, so I'm not against staying out late, but I have inhibitions to keep and a body to maintain.

Rose is sitting between Emmett and me, and she keeps pointing out my window at things. I have this weird thought that she might have considered using me to make Emmett jealous, but the fact that I may or may not be interested in an actual girl has thrown a spanner in the works. Who knows?

Now, I guess she's just going to ignore Emmett.

There's an all-ages club that we frequent. It's nothing special, not really, but Emmett has an _in_ with one of the bartenders, and it's a great place to just chill, I guess. I didn't put up a fight when Emmett suggested it, and now here we are.

Bella's coming because it's Alice's second last night in Seattle before she goes on vacation to Europe, and the friends wanted to spend it together. With Alice's boyfriend. I know his name is Jasper, and that's about all I know. Jared says he's cool enough, so, yeah.

I think a subconscious part of me agreed to come at all _because_ of Bella.

The place is called The Lizard Room and, understandably, it's _packed_. It's the summer, school's out and the kids want to party.

Emmett heads straight to the bar, while Rose and I go and find our friends. I spot Leah first, and she's with Jared, lounging on a couch. Alec is sitting in an armchair and, just from the sight of him, I'm hit with a feeling that this evening is going to be shit.

It starts out all right, but I'm on edge as Rose and I claim another couch. Alec keeps giving me funny looks, and Bella hasn't yet replied to my text. I want to know if she's here. I want to be prepared.

In the end, she doesn't have to _tell_ me.

When I spot her, my heart starts to race. Like, big time. She looks different, more than she did the night of Mike's party. Maybe it's because she isn't expecting to see Jake tonight. She looks lighter, even _happy_.

She looks amazing.

"Is that Bella?" Rose asks, her eyes widening. Of course, she would spot her too, and of course, she would point her out.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. "It is, yeah."

"She looks..." she trails off.

"She does, yeah," I say, even though I don't know what Rose was going to say. It doesn't matter because Bella does look... _yeah_.

Rose squeezes my arm. "Do you think we should call her over?" she asks.

My eyes widen. "I think she's here with - " I start, but stop when I spot Jake, and my heart sinks. I didn't know he was coming.

"Oh," Rose says at the same time. "Never mind then."

I almost laugh. Who am I kidding, really?

"I don't know what she sees in him," she says, almost disgusted. "He's so - "

"So what?" I ask, smiling at her. "You just don't like him because his father sued yours."

"And lost."

"Courtesy of _my_ father."

"I hate this stupid city."

I laugh, keeping my eyes solely on her. There's no use trying to figure out what I'm feeling for Bella, because it's all moot anyway. She has a boyfriend, and I'm just her friend. It's better that way anyway. For everyone. And plus, I definitely don't need the distraction.

"A toast," Emmett says, getting our attention. "To the birthday boy."

We raise our glasses, and Rose leans into me. She's definitely up to something, and it's probably to do with all the attention Tanya's been paying to our mutual best friend, Emmett McCarty. I can't decide if I'm too young or too old for this.

Fifteen minutes later, Rose turns to me, her eyes a little feral.

"If I asked you to kiss me, would you?" she asks.

I just stare at her.

"Would you?"

I blink. "Are you asking?"

"I haven't yet decided."

"Is it about Emmett?" I ask.

"It's about that bitch, Tanya," she says. "I thought you said that everyone _knows_ he's mine."

"She does know."

"Then why is she hanging all over him?"

"Because she's a bitch," I say.

Her face splits into a wide smile, and she leans towards me. "Do you know what I love?"

"Me?"

"Besides that?"

"I don't know," I tell her. "What do you love?"

"I love that my best friend is a guy who isn't even remotely attracted to me," she says. "It means that we can _talk_ , which is why I'm surprised you didn't tell me about this girl."

"What girl?"

"The girl you seem to be crushing on."

My eyes automatically flick Bella's way before I look Rose in the eye. "Are you really mad?"

"I just thought you'd tell me."

"I didn't even know what I felt until Emmett asked," I confess, and it's the truth. I'm still surprised that Bella came to mind at all.

Okay, not _that_ surprised.

"Will you tell me when you know more?" she asks.

"Definitely," I tell her. Believe me, she'll be the first to know if ever I figure out what's going on with me when it comes to Isabella Swan.

She grins at me, and then suddenly stands. "Come on, let's go dance."

Before I can even say no, she's pulling me to my feet and dragging me to the dance floor. She makes some space for us, and then we dance. Okay, _she_ dances, and I kind of just move from foot to foot. It's kind of _Hitch_ style because I'm pants at dancing. Seriously.

Rose isn't.

She dances around me, through me and _inside_ of me. All I can really do is watch and try to keep up.

People look at us. Including Bella. Really, she looks a little transfixed and, when her eyes meet mine, her eyebrows rise.

I shrug because I don't know what's going on either.

Not to be outdone, I guess, Jasper and Alice, and Bella and Jake move towards the dance floor as well. It's really like something out of a bad teen movie. Particularly when Emmett and Tanya join us, and Rose and her kind of compete. Emmett's enjoying it far more than I am, that's for sure.

My eyes aren't even on my own partner anyway. They're on Bella, and hers are on mine, as she looks over Jake's shoulder.

'I want to dance with you,' I mouth to her, and she just silently laughs - though, she could be making a sound and I just can't hear her over the music - finally returning her attention to her dance partner. I do the same, and we see out the song without Rose clawing out Tanya's eyes.

"I need a drink," Rose says, and we head to the bar. "I'm going crazy, aren't I?"

"A little," I confess, and she glares at me. "I'm right, and you know it."

"You are, and I do," she agrees, sitting herself down on a bar stool. "I mean, I was practically manhandling you out there."

I smile. "I shouldn't be complaining."

She sighs. "What's wrong with me?" she asks.

"Nothing," I'm quick to say. "Timing is just as important as feelings. And maybe right now isn't your time."

"So what then?"

"I don't know," I say, moving to stand right in front of her because there's no free stool. She spreads her legs a little, and I step closer, between her knees. "Maybe you should take a page out of his book and see other people," I suggest. "That way, you can try to figure out what you like and what you don't."

She frowns slightly. "Date someone else?"

"Instead of using me to make him jealous."

She grimaces. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's why you're my best friend, Edward. I'd do anything for you, and you'd do the same for me."

"Which is why I'm telling you that you're better than this," I say, my tone serious and unassuming. "You shouldn't have to be somebody you're not to get a boy's attention. If he's interested and the timing is right, he should be standing right here where I am, and he shouldn't take no for an answer."

Her features soften. "It's a shame we don't like each other, huh?" she says softly. "Whoever that girl is doesn't even know how lucky she is."

I stand up straight. No, she doesn't.

Rose downs her drink before she stands again. "Come on, let's go dance." She laughs at my hesitation. "I promise I'll be back to normal this time."

"Oh, Miss Hale; you assume that you were ever normal at all."

She fakes a laugh as she tugs on my hand, and leads us back to the dance floor. Emmett and Tanya are gone, but Bella, Jake, Alice and Jasper are still there. Rose doesn't notice them, and I try not to either.

But I can't help it.

Jake has his hands on Bella, and there's a part of me that's jealous. A _big_ part of me.

Rose and I dance three songs before she complains about her heels and drags me back off the floor. So much for stopping her manhandling.

I feel even more like her little bitch when she sends me to get her another drink. It takes me considerably longer to get it than it would have had she gone to get it herself because, hey, I may be pretty, but she's prettier. I drop it off before I tell her I'm going to get some air. I definitely need some.

I don't expect to find anyone out back, and I'm wholly surprised and also not when Bella is in the back alley, leaning against the wall and just breathing.

She's stunning in the moonlight.

"There he is," she says, her voice barely audible over the music we can both still hear. "I was wondering when I was going to see you."

"Were you waiting for me?"

"I thought you wanted to dance."

I move towards her, and she stands up straight. I can hear the music, but I can't really _hear_ it, so I just place my hands on her waist, and hers slide around my neck. There's something possessive in my grip, but we both manage to ignore it. Her fingers are warm, and it's distracting. This is really happening.

We start to sway.

My breathing slows.

She sighs.

I pull her closer.

Her body relaxes.

My grip tightens.

Her eyes meet mine.

I stop breathing altogether.

She licks her lips.

I stare.

She stares back.

We lean -

The back door swings open, and we immediately release each other. I turn away, and study the wall with such intensity; you'd think it was talking to me.

"I've been looking for you," I hear Jake say, and it's like he doesn't even notice me. Maybe it's the darkness of the spot I'm standing in, or maybe he's too drunk to notice. Who knows?

"Just needed some fresh air," Bella tells him, sounding breathless. She's just as affected as I am, apparently. "It was getting hot in there."

"How could you just leave me with your friends like that?"

My fists clench.

"Can you come inside before Alice talks my ear right off?"

I hear Bella's hesitation, but she eventually goes, and I'm left alone in the alley. Left alone with all my thoughts.

We were dancing.

I'm not an idiot. We were going to kiss. I can only wonder if we would have gone through with it. It would have made things weird. _Very weird_.

Maybe it's a good thing Jake interrupted us. Stupid things happen in dark alleyways, particularly when there's alcohol and hyped up feelings involved.

I'm sure things will be clearer in the morning.

* * *

Update: they're not.

In fact, they're fuzzier, save for _one thing_.

I like Bella.


	5. Come In With the Rain

AN: I hope everyone is having a safe and happy holiday season!

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Come In With the Rain  
**

 **BPOV**

It's raining.

Again.

It's supposed to be the _summer_. Why the hell is it raining?

"Are you going to sit and mope around all day?" my mom asks, getting my attention.

I look up from my phone's screen to spy her standing in my bedroom doorway. She looks amused by something, and I reason she's amused by me. I must look a miserable sight, just sitting here at my bay window, looking out at the pouring rain like I'm some lost puppy.

"It's just rain, Bella."

I heave a sigh. "I had plans."

"With Edward?"

I try not to read into the fact that she mentions Edward first. "Jake," I say.

She steps into the room. "So the rain's thwarted them then?"

"He isn't willing to come all the way here in this downpour," I tell her. "I mean, I don't blame him. The roads must be a nightmare."

She places a hand on my shoulder. "Are you just missing your friends?"

I huff. "Angela gets back next week," I say; "but Alice is gone for the rest of the summer, and who knows when Jasper gets back?" I try not to sound sour about it, but I am. Angela's gone to visit her grandmother in her small hometown downstate, Alice is currently touring Europe and Jasper's enjoying time with his extended family in Texas. I'd know where Ben was if he ever bothered to reply to texts.

I look at my mom, making a decision. "Can I go to Ohio?"

The question surprises her, and it's clear to see. "You _want_ to go home?"

I love that Ohio is still home even if we've been in Seattle for two years already. "I guess I just want to see the family."

"But, Bella, we left for a reason."

"I know, Mom," I say calmly. "It's unlikely I'll ever forget. Believe me."

She squeezes my shoulder. "Look, if you want to go; maybe it's a good idea," she says thoughtfully. "Maybe you, me, and the boys can go for a few days." She doesn't need to say that my dad wouldn't join us. He's too busy, and we're about done trying to get him to choose us over his work these days.

He keeps saying he's pushing hard now so he _can_ get a promotion. The _last_ promotion, to make him a _name_ partner of the parent firm. Then, he says, he'll be able to choose his work hours. I'm all for it, sure, but I'm not going to hold my breath. _I_ did this to us.

Something about the rain, I guess.

"It's definitely easier for us to go to them, than for them to come to us," my mom says, almost talking to herself. "I'll make some calls." She drops a kiss on the top of my head. "You okay?"

I nod.

Even if she doesn't believe me, she doesn't say so. She just squeezes my shoulder once more, and then leaves me to stare out at the pouring rain. My melancholy goes on for another minute before I'm reaching for my phone and sending an unexpected text.

 **Beaufort: You busy?**

I've barely put my phone aside when it buzzes with Edward's reply.

 **Edythe: Just got home from training. What's up?**

I don't reply immediately, because I'm not really sure what I want to say or do. Really, I kind of feel as if I just need to _see_ him.

 **Edythe: Beau?**

 **Edythe: Want to come over? I can send Felix.**

Under normal circumstances, I'd put up a fight. But not today.

 **Beaufort: Okay.**

 **Edythe: He'll be there in ten. Can't wait to see you!**

I smile because I can't help it. I think maybe I'll end up telling him certain _things_ today. Maybe he needs to hear them, or maybe I just need to say them out loud. I wonder how he'll feel about all of it. Jake was understanding enough, if not a little abrupt about his acceptance. I think that was the moment I realized he was probably the one for me.

Somehow, I doubt Edward will be the same, and I can't determine if that's a good or bad thing.

It takes me a moment to rise up, and get ready. I grab my coat and my phone, and then head downstairs to wait. As expected, Felix arrives exactly ten minutes after Edward sent his message. I say a quick goodbye to my mom, and then race through the rain towards the waiting car. Felix reaches behind him to open the back door, and I practically jump in and close it behind me. It's a miracle I don't break something.

"Evening, Miss Bella," he says.

"Hi, Felix," I say. "How are you?"

"I'm good, and how are you?"

"Good, good," he says.

We don't usually talk past the formalities, so it took a conversation with Edward for me to find out that Felix and Heidi are actually married. I want to ask Felix how he feels about Edward getting his driver's license. Sure, he would probably end up driving Peter and Liam around now, but it had to be weird, right? Edward found it weird.

We get to the Cullen house in next to no time.

The rain isn't as heavy here as it was at my house, but I still race towards the porch as the door opens before I can even think to announce my presence. I skid to a stop and come face-to-face with a grinning Edward.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi back."

He gestures with his head for me to enter, and I move past him. I kick off my shoes and take off my coat. Edward takes it from me, his smile steady.

"Have you eaten?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"Hungry?"

"Not really," I tell him. "You?"

"Nope."

He's lying, I can tell. If he just trained, then he's probably starving. I watch as he puts my coat in the closet, and then gives me his undivided attention.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, his smile wavering. "You don't look happy to see me."

"I am," I rush to say. "Of course I am," I add. "I'm just having a strange day."

He puts out his hand, and I immediately take it. He leads the way through the house and up the stairs to his room. His fingers are cool, which isn't surprising. They always are. There _is_ something different though. Ever since that night at The Lizard Room, he's been acting unlike himself. It isn't anything bad; it's just _different_. I'm not sure what to feel about it, and I haven't yet worked up the courage to ask him about it.

His room is warm and smells like him. He lets go of my hand and heads towards his large bed. He flops down on it and then pats the bed beside him. "Come, sit," he says. "Talk to Edythe."

I laugh, because I have to. He has such an old lady name, and he's using it to its full advantage.

Maybe today isn't the day then. Why add to the downpour outside with my own torrential downpour? I move to sit down next to him, setting my phone aside. "How was training?"

"Fine," he says with a shrug. "It was routine."

I look at him. "Would you be against my coming to watch, one day?" I ask.

His eyes widen and I don't miss it. "Really?"

"Really."

"All I do is swim, Bella," he tells me. "It's not that exciting."

"I'd just like to see."

"Then, sure," he says with a smile. "But bring something to read or something - it's deathly boring."

"I'll remember that."

We descend into a conversation about the strangest things to do when you're bored. It's an easy, simple conversation I didn't even know I needed. Trust Edward Cullen to know.

Almost an hour later, I head downstairs to the kitchen - by myself. I'd be irritated if it weren't my own fault. I practically stomp my way down the stairs.

"Oh, hi, Bella," Esme says, catching me off guard as I enter the kitchen. I didn't expect her to be in here. "Did you want something?"

"I lost a bet, and now I have to get him some _Gatorade_ and make him a sandwich," I tell her. "He was halfway to making a distasteful sexist remark, but I set him straight. He might end up with a bruise, so I wouldn't be alarmed if you see it."

She smiles knowingly at me, as if to say _that's my girl_.

"I don't know where to start," I admit, because the kitchen is huge, and Heidi is usually around.

Esme points to things as I go, but doesn't offer to help. I wonder if she's actually that kind of mom. It's different to how mine is; she would have probably made the sandwich already.

"Oh," Esme suddenly says; "he's allergic to peanuts."

My eyes widen, as I set down the jar of peanut butter. "I did not know that."

"He should have told you."

"I think he was actually kidding about the sandwich," I confess. "I was planning on making something borderline inedible anyway. I mean, who in their right mind would eat a peanut butter and pickle sandwich?"

"Stranger things have happened," she tells me with a smile. "I craved some weird things when I was pregnant with the twins."

We've never really talked before, and it's oddly settling in a way. She has this calmness about her that's deeply comforting, and I realize that what I needed today is found in this house. This house that isn't my own.

I wonder if Edward feels calmer elsewhere as well.

Esme's words make me think about what Edward was like as a baby. He was probably adorable and, just, _squishy_.

"Like?" I ask curiously.

"Loved bananas," she says. "With everything. It was actually disgusting. I don't know how Carlisle could stomach it, really."

I giggle. "I hate bananas."

"So does Edward."

I grin. "It's just another thing we have in common."

Esme regards me for a moment and, before it gets uncomfortable, she speaks. "You're good for him, you know?"

"Pardon?"

"He's always been so serious; so hard on himself, and I think that being friends with you has helped him ease up slightly; helped him accept his own self. It's easy to forget he's just turned sixteen."

"He's not a fan of his birthday," I relay. I don't know if I'm fishing or not, but Esme seems to oblige me whether she knows it or not.

She presses her lips together. "No, he's not," she says softly. "It's nothing new. He's always been like that," she clarifies, shaking her head, her smile soft and warm. "When I first met him, he told me - "

"Wait," I cut her off. It's rude, I know, but I can't help it. "When you _met_ him?"

She stares at me, and I stare back.

"Oh," she sounds, her eyes widening in what I can only describe as _panic_. "He hasn't told you."

"Told me what?"

"Bella?"

I shake my head, my thoughts running away. "You're not his mom?"

Esme's eyes narrow. "I _am_ his mom," she says slowly; "I just didn't give birth to him. I didn't realize he hadn't told you yet."

"Hadn't told her what?"

Our heads both whip around to look at the door, where Edward is standing, frowning slightly. He looks so much like a little boy that all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and never let go.

"Edward," Esme whispers, and realization dawns on his face very quickly.

"You _told_ her?" he asks, his eyes on Esme.

"I didn't mean to," she rushes to say. "I thought - "

He cuts her off. "I can't believe you told her."

"Edward - "

"Jesus, Esme!" he snaps, his eyes darkening with his anger and _hurt_. "I mean, I know I'm not your son, but you don't have to go around boasting about it!" He looks at me, stricken, before he disappears from sight.

I remain stunned, my own eyes wide and my mouth open. What on earth just happened?

"Bella," Esme says, and I look at her. She has unshed tears in her eyes, and oh my God, what did I just do? What did I do? "You should go and talk to him. I doubt he wants to see me right now."

I don't know what to say to her, so I just nod and then go looking for Edward. He isn't in his bedroom, which isn't _really_ a surprise. Where I do end up finding him isn't much of a shock either.

I'm also not surprised that the Cullens have an indoor pool, and I'm definitely not surprised that Edward is sitting at its edge, with his feet dangling in the water.

He doesn't look up when I approach, but I know he notices me from the stutter in the otherwise steady motion of his legs in the water.

I kick off my own shoes, roll my jeans up as high as they can go - which isn't far at all - and sit down next to him. I don't try to say anything because I can't think of anything. What do I even say? What _should_ I say?

I'm just going to sit here until he's ready. I don't know if he'll _want_ to talk, but I'm not going to force him to, if -

"My mother left when I was four."

I look at him. His voice is barely a whisper; I'm surprised I even hear him.

"On my birthday, actually," he adds. " _During_ my birthday party." He reaches for my left hand, and I give it to him. "I remember her telling me she forgot to buy candles, and she was going out to buy some. Later, my father found the candles in the pantry, and she just never came back. I haven't seen her since."

It's the first time I realize what he meant when he said he wanted to be _more_. He wanted to have been _enough_ for her to stay.

"My father went looking for her," he tells me. "I went to stay with my grandparents in Toronto while he looked and, I guess he must have found her, because he came back divorced. I also figure that she signed her rights to me away, or whatever, because Esme was able to adopt me when they got married. Apparently, my mother was dissatisfied with her life with us, and she went in search of something more."

I don't ask him questions. He's talking, and I'm listening, even if I'm slightly distracted by the way he's playing with my fingers.

"After that, we lived in Toronto," he says. "I think the house in Vancouver was too much for my father to handle, and he wanted a clean break." He looks at me for the first time, and his eyes are red. Despite the fact that they aren't related, his eyes resemble Esme's.

There's pain there.

"I liked that house. It was home, you know?" He shakes his head. "We used to walk on the pier, in the bitter cold, and just watch the waves. She took that from us; she took that from _me_. I didn't handle it well," he admits. "I didn't understand that she wasn't coming back. My whole life, it was just the three of us, and I just couldn't understand how she could just leave and never come back.

"But then I figured it out. It was me."

My response is instant. "Edward, no."

"It was," he presses. " _I_ wasn't enough for her."

"Edward, please don't say that."

"But it's true," he forces. "I know it, Bella. Believe me, I've gone to the counselors; I've had all these people telling me things, but I know it. Deep inside, in my heart, I know I wasn't part of her plan, and she left. She just left."

I stop his fingers and hold his hand between both of mine. I don't even know what to say to convince him, because he sounds so _sure_.

"I didn't talk for a while," he confesses. "I asked for my mommy until I was blue in the face and my throat was raw, but she never came. And then I just stopped asking at all. I think it's why my father's so afraid of being my father. I've been known to go silent when big changes happen. I'm not - I don't - "

I squeeze his hand.

"It's why he was so hesitant to tell me he was in love with Esme," he says. "We lived in Toronto until they met. Her father's from the Czech Republic, and my father found him when he was visiting. They struck up this deal to merge the companies, Cullen and Novak, and he met Esme when they were in Geneva, negotiating the merger. I think they fell in love almost immediately, but I don't know..." he trails off. "Like I said, I didn't handle it very well."

He takes a deep breath. "When the new firm was formed, my father and his siblings split up to run the new parent locations, as did Esme's. We came here, my uncle went to the Czech Republic, Esme's sister went to Washington, her brother to New York, and my father's sister stayed in Toronto." He sighs. "So we became a family, I guess. Here in Seattle. I hated it at first. Like, _hated_. But then I started swimming, and that all changed. I liked the purpose; the distraction, and my father allowed it because I wasn't silent anymore.

"I met Rose first. We were already kind of friends when Emmett picked on her. I may or may not have pushed him, and the three of us have been, uh, inseparable friends since." He stutters on the word, but I don't comment. "My father and Esme got married in 2001, and I guess I accepted it for what it was."

I want to ask him what he accepted, but I don't.

"The boys were born the next year, and I guess my father finally got the family he always wanted." His hand is clammy, and he takes it back to wipe it on his jeans. He doesn't give it back. "She used to sing to me, you know?"

"What?"

"My mother," he says. "She was so talented, with dreams that were beyond my father and me. But I have this memory of her singing to me. It's this song I sort of half remember. I can hear it in my memory, but I can't actually _hear_ it, you know?"

I nod because I do know. I realize for the first time that I've never actually talked to him about my music. Not that it feels like a part of me anymore, or anything like that. When I told Eli I wasn't going back, I wasn't kidding. It's been a topic of contention between my mom and me.

She just doesn't understand.

Music can't be forced. You have to _feel_ it, and I just don't anymore.

"She picked her dreams over me," he tells me. "I didn't ask about her after I started talking again, and I think it worried my father. But then, one day, I heard her on the radio." He looks at me again, and his eyes are softer, warmer. "She's not half bad, you know? It's what she picked, so I guess she had to be successful at some point."

"Is she?"

"I don't actually know, but I kind of wish she'd achieved more," he tells me. "It would make it more worth it. It would make it - " he stops. " _Hurt less_." There's another beat of silence and my heart just breaks for him. "Just, she should have been _more_ so that leaving us would be for something."

I want to tell him something - even if it's a useless fact about bees - to make him feel better. I want to tell him _anything_ , but the words don't come

He reaches for my hand again and puts both of our hands in the water. It's cold and comforting, and our hands swim circles around each other. His fingers brush mine sometimes, and it makes me feel warm from the tips of my fingers right to the pit of my stomach.

"I play piano," I tell him after a moment.

His eyebrows rise. "You do?"

"Well, I _did_."

"You stopped?"

I let out a tired breath. "I just wasn't feeling the music anymore."

"I get that," he says. "Much to my father's distaste, I bought a guitar last year, and then I taught myself to play, but I haven't in a while."

"We should start a band," I say, jumping slightly in my excitement, and splashing water on the both of us. "Sorry," I say.

It's too late though. He's got that look of mischief on his face, and I figure out what he's going to do a beat too late. I barely get my scream out before we're both in the water, fully submerged.

"Edward!" I screech when I come up for air, but the little fish is already halfway across the pool. "Oh, you."

He's grinning madly, and the sight of it stills my heart. The tears are gone, and here is a boy who deserves to laugh and smile and be happy. How dare _anyone_ try to take that away from him? How dare _she_?

I splash him, and he laughs. It's the sound to end all wars, I'm telling you. Music to my ears.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunts, and I start towards him.

He backs away, and it looks effortless. Curse him and his invisible fins.

I splash him again. I reason he allows me to catch him. Otherwise I would have tired myself out. I reach out and dunk him, and we play fight until Esme comes to find us. If she's surprised by the fact that we're _in_ the pool; she doesn't say so. She just tells us that dinner's ready, and sets out a pair of towels.

Edward gets out first and rings out his clothes while they're still on his perfect body. The way his clothes stick to him makes me worry about my own. My bra's probably going to show through my shirt, and it definitely isn't the prettiest one I own.

"Come on," Edward says. "I've got a sweatshirt for you."

We head upstairs all wrapped up in towels and try desperately not to drip water onto the floor. While Edward's in the shower, I change out of my wet clothes into some of his old Breaking Dawn Swimming Club gear. He claims they're the only clothes that will fit me.

They smell like an _old_ him.

When he comes back out, he's dressed in his own tracksuit pants and a Breaking Dawn long-sleeved shirt. He looks at me for a long time, and I'm not so oblivious not to notice that he likes what he sees. It makes me blush, which makes him blush.

"So," he says; "dinner?"

I nod.

"Did Esme already take your clothes to the dryer?" he asks.

I nod again.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

I look at him. "For what?"

He holds out his hand, and I take it. "There's no _one_ thing," he says seriously. "Just, thank you, for being here; for staying; for being my friend. For being you."

I squeeze his fingers because what can I say?

"Food?"

"I'm starving."

His answering grin fills me with such warmth that even the gloomiest Seattle weather couldn't beat down. I worry, of course, that this is wrong. All of it. His hand in mine. His smile matching mine. His clothes embracing me.

But why does it feel so right?

* * *

I don't get to watch him train until the end of July. His training has been increasingly intense. I mean, it already _was_ , but he's gearing up for something big, and he's focused.

I never really understood it until he told me. He wants Olympic Gold. It's his big dream; his ultimate goal, and he's dedicated his life to it. He's realistic enough to accept he may be lucky enough to make the USA team for London 2012, but the Gold could be a four years further from that.

He's so endearing, that I want it all for him.

All of it. And more.

With Angela back in Seattle and Jake suddenly remembering that he does, in fact, have a girlfriend; I split my time among the three of them. Well, when I'm not at home acting like the teenage drama queen my mom thinks I am, or the big sister from hell that my brothers believe I am.

I don't know what they complain about, really.

Edward and I don't discuss his mother again, and I don't really get around to telling him about Ohio. I want to, but I just can't do it. I guess I lost my thunder or something like that when I learned Esme isn't his biological mother.

I went home that night and looked up his mother on the Internet. I found a brief page about her on _Wikipedia_ , though it made no true mention of her personal life beside the fact that she currently resides in Nashville. I don't know if it's too vindictive of me, but I kind of wish she'd failed as a musician, and she ended up broke and alone.

I mean, just the idea of little Edward constantly asking for his mother until he fell silent breaks my heart. It tears me apart. And it just amazes me that anyone could dream of leaving him. I mean, I'm all for realizing your dreams, but never at the expense of your kid. I don't know the situation, sure, but it's still so heartbreaking to think that, so many years later; it still affects him.

He wants to be _more_. She ruined him, and she probably doesn't even know it.

"Am I picking you up?" Edward asks.

I laugh into my phone. "How else am I supposed to get there?"

"Swim," he says.

I look out my bedroom window at the pouring rain. It's been going for almost three hours, and it's affecting my mood. Maybe Edward can tell, I don't know.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," he says.

"See you soon," I say, and then hang up.

Just in time to catch Alice's call.

She sounds bubbly even through the phone, and it lifts my spirits in a heartbeat. I miss her something fierce, and I kind of need to talk to her about that night at The Lizard Room. I won't go into specifics, but I need some perspective.

It's been something that Edward and I have ignored, but it happened. Well, it _almost_ happened.

And I _wanted_ it to.

Edward is the person I want to talk to about it, but I can't. How can I?

Alice talks my ear off until Edward arrives, and I promise her I'll call her later in the week as I head downstairs. I grab my coat, pocket my phone, and then race towards his waiting car.

I slide into the passenger's seat and am immediately met with a heart-stopping, patented, Edward Cullen grin.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi back," I say, matching his grin.

"Are you ready?"

"Are you?"

"Always."

I pat his forearm, and Edward stares at my hand for a moment. Long enough for me to take it back and make it awkward.

Edward clears his throat, shifts the car into gear, and we set off. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks after a while.

"Ask about what?"

"Whatever is bothering you right now."

I sigh. "It's raining."

"That's not it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you."

He glances at me. "Bella."

"Eduardo."

He lets out a laugh. "Are you trying out nicknames then, huh?"

"I am," I tell him. "Has anyone ever called you Eddie, Ed, anything like that?"

"Emmett calls me Eddie when he's trying to be funny," he informs me. "He knows it annoys me."

"Good, because you don't look like an Eddie at all," I conclude. "Or an Ed, for that matter."

"For as long as I remember, I've just been Edward."

"No nickname from Rosalie?"

He laughs out loud. "Oh, definitely," he says; "though it's usually some kind of swear word. I'm, more often than not, called her little bitch."

I laugh as well, and the tension seems to dissipate. I can't quite put a finger on why there _is_ tension.

We get to Edward's swimming club quite quickly. I imagine it has to be close to the Cullen house if he has training at four-thirty in the morning during the school week.

I think he likes the summer just because his training times change from the ridiculous to the _borderline_ ridiculous. The times might have changed, but the duration hasn't. He claims that the new swimming season is going to see another change to his regimen. Increased training, and a changed nutrition plan. His body needs to go up a level to compete with those older than him, and he has plans for it. He's willing to do everything to reach his dream of Olympic glory. He's driven by something.

I don't know if he'll ever talk about it again, but I believe that it's to do with his mother. Maybe he's doing it for recognition. Maybe he wants her to see him; to see that he's doing it all without her.

That he didn't _need_ her for him to be successful.

"Are you going to be okay?" Edward asks me, as he holds open the glass doors for me.

"I'm just going to sit and watch, right?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Unless you want to join in?"

"Oh, God no," I rush. "I have asthma."

He doesn't look convinced.

"I do," I tell him. "I really do."

"If you say so, Bella."

I bump his shoulder with my own. "Just go and do your whole fishy thing while I think of a nickname for you."

He smiles. "Let me show you around quickly, introduce you to a few people, and then you can sit in the stands and watch the magic happen."

I thought I'd be uncomfortable at the Breaking Dawn Swim Club, but they're really welcoming. His coaches, his club mates and the rest of the staff. They're all quite happy people, sporting knowing smiles.

Because it's Tuesday, Edward's afternoon training session consists of an hour of dry-land training before he even gets in the pool. It looks like it hurts, all the core exercises and muscle-strengthening.

The facility itself is amazing. It's probably the best in the city, which isn't really far-fetched if Edward is training here to reach his Olympic dream. I can't imagine Carlisle Cullen picking anything else for his son.

When he does get ready for the pool, and his tracksuit comes off; I can't stop myself from staring. Jessica was right. His abs are to die for. It's actually not fair. He's lean and muscular, and it doesn't look as if he's finished growing at all. He'll get taller, and he'll get stronger, and I wish with all my might that he'll get faster too. He deserves it.

They swim for ages. Edward swims for longer, which really leaves me open to a ton of questions from his club mates. He warned me that not all of them are his friends, though they're all friendly enough.

Seth Miller and Jane Muir are the closest to him, and I make a note to tease him about his trios later.

They don't _know_ him in school because they're both going to be seniors next semester. Seth goes to Jamestown, and Jane's from St Jude's. They're both prestigious private schools, which means they probably know _things_. But Edward trusts them, which makes me trust them too.

I'm sitting in the bleachers with Seth and Jane when Edward _finally_ gets out of the water.

Jane checks her watch. "That was fast."

Seth checks his watch as well. "Do you think he skipped some?"

"No," Jane says automatically. "He would never. He just swam it faster."

"Aww," Seth coos. "He can't wait to get back to her, can he?"

Jane smiles at me. "You're really good for him, you know?"

I _do_ know, but I'm still curious. First Esme, and now Jane. "Why do you say that?" I ask.

Jane drops her voice. "He's just happier, I suppose," she says as if it's a secret. "Less serious. He's always been so serious, as if he's holding everything inside. He doesn't do that with you, does he?"

I shake my head. "No, he doesn't."

Collectively, we look Edward's way. As if he can sense our eyes on him, he lifts his head and grins. He waves with his left hand as he removes his swimming cap with his right.

"Just look at him," Jane says, and I do. "I've never seen him like this. It's adorable."

Seth doesn't say anything because maybe he already knows. He _knows_ about Jake, and he knows who we both are.

I look at Edward, and there's something to be seen. Jane's right, of course. There's something lighter about him, but I'm not convinced it has anything to do with me. I tell her that, and she regards me for a moment.

"That smile never used to be there," she comments.

I shake my head. "It was always there," I say. "He just wasn't showing it."

"Hmm."

"It's true."

She looks thoughtful for a moment, as if she's sizing up the situation as best she can. Then. Like, seriously, _then_. "It's no wonder he likes you," she says, and my head snaps towards her.

"What?" I blurt out.

She looks amused. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Bella," she says; "Anyone can see it. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I blink. Wait, what? I look at Seth for some help, but I receive none. He says something else instead, and it _really_ doesn't help.

"Nobody talks about a girl that much without feeling _something_ ," Seth says, and I frown. What are they even talking about?

Edward does not like me. He doesn't. There's no way. I mean, he's Edward Cullen.

I'm Bella Swan.

And I have a Jacob Black.

There's no way.

When Edward finally joins us, Jane's words are still sitting at the back of my brain, but I'm able to remain present enough to enjoy the short time that Edward and I spend with his friends.

I listen as they briefly discuss getting some dinner, but Edward feigns weariness. He wants to go home, and he's taking me with him. Apparently, we have some things to discuss that he doesn't yet know about.

Edward disappears for a while, to shower and change, so he can just have dinner when he gets home. He's probably starving. Hell, _I'm_ starving after just _watching_ him swim. When he gets back, freshly showered and looking like something delicious, I find myself feeling a little lost. His hair is damp, and his cheeks are flushed.

He's beautiful, really.

"I know," I suddenly say, and he looks at me curiously. "I'll call you, Nemo."

"Like the clown-fish from the movie?"

I grin at him. "That exact one, yes."

He considers it for a moment. "I like it," he concludes. "As long as it has nothing to do with what you think of my swimming."

"I think you're brilliant, Edward."

"Comparable to what, exactly?"

"My idea of what a fast swimmer looks like," I offer, and he smiles knowingly.

"I see you're getting on with those two rascals," he says, his tone of voice giving away his affection for both Jane and Seth. "I hope they haven't been telling you embarrassing stories."

My mind goes back to the idea that Edward possibly likes me, and my mouth goes dry. It could be true. The Lizard Room is indicative of that. But then what does that say about _my_ feelings? Do _I_ like _him_? No. Not like that. There's no way.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks.

I stand.

He puts out his hand and, for the first time, I hesitate. If he notices, he says nothing. He just waves his arm in a wide-arced gesture, and then we're off. I follow him out of the training center and out to his car. I climb into the passenger's seat while he puts his bag in the trunk.

I feel odd, and I can't describe it. It's almost as if Jane's words have tilted my world off its axis. There are things that I knew to be fact, and now things are different. I was perfectly happy existing in my little fantasy bubble where Edward and I could be secret friends without any consequences.

But.

Edward plays music as he drives, which limits conversation. It's a good thing too because I don't know what to say to him right now. He doesn't ask me if I want to go home. We go straight to his house, which is the norm and always has been. I told him this day was his, and he's going to take all of it.

Heidi's ready with Edward's monster dinner, and just pizza for me. It's a testament to how at ease he is around me. I'm just a part of his routine now. I'm no longer a guest; I spend so much time here.

We sit at the breakfast nook in the kitchen to eat, and it's always fascinated me how much he can eat. How much he _has_ to eat.

So. Much. Pasta.

We make easy conversation until it just isn't easy anymore.

I bring it up because maybe, yes, I might be a drama queen deep down. I just, I guess I just have to know for sure. I can't _unhear_ Jane's words.

"So, uh, your friends might have mentioned something to me," I start, suddenly wary of bringing this up. It's been bothering me, and I was convinced that we were the kind of friends who could talk about things.

"What?" he asks, looking slightly concerned.

"I don't know if they were just teasing, to, you know, mess with you, but, while you were finishing up, they might have mentioned that you talk about me quite a lot."

"That is true," he says carefully before he takes in a deep breath. "What exactly are you asking me, Bella?"

"They were kidding when they said that you, possibly, uh, _liked_ me, right?"

It's almost comical the way he coughs, his eyes widening. What's most notable is that he remains completely silent.

"Edward?" I question, and he can't look at me.

He sets down his fork and takes a purposeful sip of his water. "I don't know what you want me to say, Bella," he says calmly.

I don't know what I want him to say either. Maybe I want him to tell me that Jane's wrong; that he doesn't like me. Because this changes everything. It does, no matter what anyone says.

It just does.

"Maybe I do like you," he eventually says, so very calmly. "Is that so surprising?"

The way he says it catches me off guard and my mouth drops open at his obvious ease. It doesn't sound as if he's said anything monumental. It's just a statement of fact, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond.

His eyes finally meet mine. "You have a boyfriend, I know," he says, reminding us both. "We're _friends_ , and that's all we'll ever be. I get it. Believe me when I say I'm not trying to get anything to change. It's nothing. I'll get over it. Just, please don't make it weird."

It's almost a plea, but I can't help it.

I make it weird.


	6. You Can't Always Get What You Want

**Chapter Six: You Can't Always Get What You Want  
**

 **EPOV**

She makes it weird.

I guess we make it through the rest of dinner easily enough. Conversation does slow slightly, but I don't see a reason to be worried. I must miss the signs because, when she leaves my house, I don't see or hear from her _for days_. It's not for lack of trying, mind you. She just doesn't reply, and I can't be sure I blame her. I don't know how I would react if it were the other way around.

I give Jane an earful, but she's convinced that she did me a favor. I can't imagine anything being more complicated than girls. I can't. Like, seriously... do they live for creating unnecessary drama?

I am, however, forced to push that all aside as I get ready for my trip to California for the USA Swimming Championships. Despite my placement on Team USA for the Youth Olympic Games, I still have to perform if I'm going to remain in contention for further selection beyond the Games.

I travel with Esme and the boys, as opposed to my Club. Kevin's a little miffed about it, but there's nothing he can do.

Esme and my father flipped a coin on who's going where this August. They can't leave the firm at the same time, so Esme's here with me now, and my father will accompany me to Singapore. It's not lost on me that they won't be together for their wedding anniversary, but my father says he'll make it up to her another time. Work would have prohibited a celebration anyway.

I pretend I believe him.

As far as the swimming goes, I do well. For a sixteen-year-old, that is. I make the semi-finals of two events, which is mind-blowing, seeing as I'm swimming against some of my heroes. Seriously. It's unreal.

I narrowly miss out on the first final, but make it into the 200 m backstroke final, which Kevin believes is going to be my ticket to the big leagues. I'm the youngest swimmer of the eight, and it's a little daunting.

I kind of wish Bella was talking to me.

Esme _tries_ , but it's not the same. She's my _parent_ ; so it's kind of expected that she be supportive. No, that's not true. Esme's here because she wants to be. I didn't ask her to be here, but she is. She chose it, just like my biological mother chose not to.

She's encouraging and understanding, and I think I surprise us both when I hug her before I head for the penultimate race. I wonder if I would have done it if Bella and I were talking. I like to think yes, but I can't be too sure. Maybe this break is what we need; what _I_ need. To get over the _feelings_.

It's nothing intense. I can handle it, so I don't really understand why she's making such a big deal about it.

I don't place in my final, but I do come in fifth, clocking a personal best and breaking the Championship's Junior Record. All in all, it's a good day at the office.

I get toasted by Kevin, and Esme squeezes the life out of me. Things have been a little strange between us since Bella found out that we're not actually blood-related, but I'm really glad she's here. I needed my mom.

And she's here.

I travel back with Esme and the boys, and the post-championship glow disappears almost immediately when I remember Bella still isn't talking to me and it's damn annoying. Like, I mean, I didn't actually _do_ anything wrong. Did I? It's not my fault I started to like her, and it's not my fault she even found out. Why is she taking it out on me?

On Monday, I return to training.

On Tuesday, I drive by Bella's house.

On Wednesday, I go shopping for the essentials.

And, on Thursday, I finish packing. I'm flying out in the evening.

It's also the day that Bella decides to show up at my house. I'm in my room, finalizing my packing when I hear her voice for the first time in just under two weeks. I almost forgot what it sounds like.

"Hi," she says, standing in my doorway and looking oddly sheepish.

"Hi back," I say, my body automatically turning to face her. I've missed her, though I won't say so.

She does, though. "I missed you," she says, and I take an automatic step towards her. "I'm also sorry that I've been so weird lately."

"I _told_ you not to make it weird," I tell her.

"I know," she says with a sigh. "I couldn't help it."

I take another step forward. "It's nothing, Bella," I assure her. "I promise it's nothing. I guess I just like having a friend like you, and I'm just getting confused because of all the attention you give me, but I promise it's nothing. I'll get over it."

Her eyes don't stray from my face. "Edward?"

"It's nothing," I say again, and I mean it. "I would know if it wasn't, because then it would be a problem. But it's not. I promise it's not."

She blinks. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I sigh. "What are you doing here, Bella?"

"Esme told me you're leaving tonight," she says, as she steps into the room. "I asked if Felix could pick me up because I needed to see you before you left."

I just nod. What am I supposed to say? Maybe I should be more alarmed by the fact that she and Esme actually _talk_ , but my mind tries to ignore it.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Confused," I reply.

She smiles gently. "No nerves?"

"No," I say. Then: "Okay, maybe a little."

She steps towards me again, and again, until she's walking right into my waiting arms. It's the first time I remember us actually hugging, and I wrap my arms around her and don't let go.

It doesn't help with the feelings I'm trying to suppress. Not really. But I'm not complaining. How can I?

She releases me first. "You look very handsome, by the way," she says, eyeing my USA tracksuit. "The ladies are going to eat you alive."

I don't reply.

"I brought you something."

"A present?"

"Sort of, yes," she says, stepping back and digging in the pocket of her jeans. "It's nothing special."

"It's from you, so it must be," I say.

She's grinning when she hands me a keychain. It's rectangular-shaped, ocean blue in color, and says 'Nemo' in bright-orange block letters.

I laugh. "This is amazing. Thank you."

"Do you even have keys?" she asks, because she knows that my car is keyless.

"I'll find keys, if needs be," I tell her. "Or I'll use it on my locker key next year."

"Don't we use combinations?"

"We'll be juniors, Bella," I remind her. "The junior lockers use keys."

"I don't know anything about our school," she says. "Like, really, nothing. It's just a place I go to every day, and try not to get hit in the face during Phys. Ed."

I laugh, but it tapers off really quickly.

She sighs heavily, recognizing my hesitance. "Edward, are we okay?" she asks.

"I don't know, Bella," I say; "are we?"

She takes a deep breath. "Look, I'll just see you when you get back, okay?" she says. "I wanted to say good luck, and that I'll be pulling for you."

I nod.

"I want you to know that you're very important to me, Edward," she continues. "I don't want anything to be weird between us."

"That's up to you, Bella," I tell her. "It's just a thing that is, and it'll go away if it hasn't already."

She looks like she wants to say something; something she'll probably regret, but she doesn't say anything at all.

I almost want her to.

"I'll see you when I get back," I say, though it comes out as more of a question, with an inflection at the end.

"Of course, you will," she says, and I get another hug out of it. Maybe she's been as lost as I've been these past two weeks because she holds on for longer than normal. Maybe something happened in these past two weeks; something she hasn't been able to tell me because she made it _weird_. There;s something on the tip of her tongue, I can tell, but she's probably holding it back until after I get back.

"When do you leave for Ohio?" I ask her.

"Sunday," she says, her breath warm against my neck, and it sends a shiver straight down my spine.

"Are you looking forward to it?" I ask, and I feel _her_ shiver in my arms.

"I can't wait to see my family, but the actual going back to Ohio part is a little daunting," she admits. "It's doubtful the people have forgotten why we left in the first place."

I don't remind her that I still don't know what she's talking about. It seems to be a big deal for her so I won't push. I also don't release her. That is something I definitely don't want to do.

Really, if I had my way, I would hold on to her for as long as possible.

 _For forever_.

Jesus.

It's the sound of running feet that eventually forces us to let go, and I step back, blushing like mad. Maybe I _do_ need to leave the country to get over all of this.

Peter appears in my bedroom doorway. "Daddy says it's time to go," he says.

"Sure," I say; "we'll be right down."

When he's gone, I finish up with my suitcase, zip it up, and then take it off my bed.

"That's quite a small bag," she says, eyeing my luggage dubiously. "Does everything fit in there?"

"Pretty much," I tell her, suddenly wary.

"Including your _Speedo_?"

I glare at her. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't wear a _Speedo_?"

"Oh, I see," she says. "So, you wear the tights then?"

I groan. "Shorts, Bella. They are swimming _shorts_."

"Oh, is that what they call them then?"

I ignore her teasing as I zip up my tracksuit top, slip my backpack onto my back, and then look at her.

"Did I mention that you look handsome?" she asks.

I blush. "Maybe."

She steps forward and touches my cheek with her right hand. "You're going to do great," she says.

"I know."

"Modest much."

"You know me so well."

Her fingers brush my cheek again, and then over my ear before she turns on her heel and leads the way out of my bedroom.

I follow in silence.

My family is waiting downstairs. It's better that Bella and I say goodbye in front of them, I reckon. She wishes me luck, bids me farewell, and then leaves. As I watch her go, I feel unexpectedly hollow, and it takes my father prompting me forward to get moving. We clamber into the car and head to the airport.

I'm traveling with the team, but my father and the boys are going to meet me in Singapore. There's quite the sending-off at the airport, with the press out to watch us leave. We are the inaugural team for the first edition of the Youth Olympic Games after all. The press is really trying to increase the coverage of the Games, but I'm not holding my breath. We'll see what happens.

There are at least fifty athletes making the trip, as well as additional coaches, trainers, physiotherapists, doctors, and all other personnel and officials.

There are four male swimmers and four female, forming two relay teams. I'm lucky, really, because Seth is here as well. We're going to be roommates, which is something he's been looking forward to since we made the cut for Team USA.

On the plane, we get a shout-out from the pilot.

Abraham Walters is in charge of the junior swimming team, and he makes sure that we're keeping hydrated. He wants us to get some sleep, but he has to know it's near impossible. I'm not the only one who's too wired; too excited about what's to come.

I don't really know the other members of the team because we come from all over the country, so we spend a while just trying to get to know each other.

There's a _girl_.

Out of New York City.

I'd heard of her because she's _fast_. Kate Kincade. Cute too. I'm looking, and it isn't lost on me that she's looking too. Maybe she likes what she sees.

I'm also not the only one who notices.

"She totally wants you," Seth says, probably loud enough for Kate to hear. She says nothing, which means that she probably does.

I guess it's something to think about. I'm here, halfway across the world, where Bella _isn't_. It's a good thing too, I think. I can get over whatever misplaced crush I seem to have on her, and everything can go back to the way it was before I decided to involve _feelings_.

Who knew catching feelings could be so detrimental?

The flight takes a lot out of me. Besides the nearly constant hydration and the attempted sleep, I'm completely exhausted by the time we touch down in Singapore. I'm just relieved I'm not the only one.

We shuffle through Customs, before we retrieve our bags and meet up with our designated country hostess, emerging from the terminal that I could have sworn had a forest. Huh? Our hostess is a petite woman with a wide smile. I don't catch her name, which is a shame, but I'm too tired to do anything about it.

We get carted into two buses and get taken to the Olympic Village, which is essentially a university campus. There are residences for athletes, and then residences for non-athletes, which makes some of the athletes smile a little too wide. No supervision.

Before we can even think about getting some sleep, we go through registration and collect our arrival packs and our identity cards, which are supposed to be on our person at all times. It will give us access to our residence, the Shuttle system, the cafeteria and the various venues.

Seth and I clamber up to our room, and I pretty much flop down on my bed face-first.

"We have a nice view," Seth says, moving to stand by the window. We're on the third floor, much like the rest of the swimmers, which _does_ give us a neat view of the courtyard behind the building.

The room is modern and neat, themed to match the colors of the Games, which are purple and white. My bed is simple, if not comfortable. Single-sized, with white linen. I doubt we'll be spending much time other than sleeping in here anyway. Seth is an explorer, and I'm sure I'll be at the training pool more often than not.

"What's that?" Seth asks, moving towards his own bed.

I open one eye to spy him opening the residence pack propped against his pillows.

"Hmm," he sounds; "we've got maps of the competing venues, the town, and the Village. A cap, water bottle, two YOG t-shirts." He pulls one out, and it's purple. "Hey, look, it's got my name and country on the back."

I grin at him. Really, it's the little things.

"There's also a shuttle timetable," he says, his eyes drifting over to me. "Are you really tired, or are you faking it, because I want to go exploring!"

I groan. "I'm tired."

"Liar." He moves towards me and pokes my cheek. "Come on. Let's go. Don't you want to see Kate?"

My eyes fly open.

"Hah!"

"Shut up," I say, as I move to sit up. "You heard what Abe said. _Rest_."

"But we just got here," he presses. "Fine, we won't _leave_ the Village, but can we at least take a look around?"

I concede because I was always going to concede. I do take out my phone first though, and text my father to find out if they've arrived safely.

I text Bella out of habit.

Let's see if she replies.

* * *

I thought I knew what a lot of people looks like, but I don't. Not at all.

The Opening Ceremony is utter chaos. There are people everywhere, and, if Seth wasn't holding on to my sleeve, I think I'd get lost in the crowd.

Abe wants us back in our rooms by ten o'clock, because the swimmers are first up in the morning heats. My first event is the 4 x 100 m Freestyle Mixed Relay, which I'm swimming with Garrett, Kate, and another girl named Carmen Fisher from Nebraska.

We call her Fish because, well, _come on_.

At exactly ten o'clock, Sasha Rose, another female swimmer from Florida, rounds us up and we head back to the Olympic Village. Of course, we put up a fight, but we were always going to listen. As much fun as this all this, it _is_ a competition.

Seth practically falls into bed, but I take my time. I have a bit of a routine when it comes to racing, and I never put it off. Call me superstitious but I need all the luck I can get. I lay out my tracksuit, and my costume. I set my shoes out, and search for socks. The entire thing takes over fifteen minutes, before I feel settled enough to get ready for bed.

I have several messages that I read through once I climb into bed.

 **Dad: Hey, Son. We caught you on TV - Liam couldn't handle the stadium today. Esme says you looked very handsome, like your father, apparently ;) See you tomorrow. We love you!**

Oh, little Liam.

Really, I'm just glad they're here at all.

I type out a quick reply, before I move on to a few from Emmett and Rose. There's also one from Bella.

 **Beaufort: I'm no expert, but eight events sound rather intense to me. How are you feeling? You should know that I've planned my entire life around watching you swim. I'm kind of bummed I don't get to boast about being friends with you.  
**

I don't really know what to say, so my reply is awful and awkward. Everything is still so weird, and I don't know how to fix it. I told her I'd turn the feelings off, and I reckon I'm doing a good job of it. She doesn't have to try to help.

I don't wait for a reply, as I set my phone aside and promptly fall asleep.

The first few days of the competition fly by. On Day One, we come in fourth in the 4 × 100 m Freestyle Mixed Relay, which is particularly disappointing.

On Day Two, I take Gold in the Boys' 100 m Backstroke. I make the final of the Boys' 200 m Freestyle but don't place. My Boys' 200 m Individual Medley goes much better, and I take Silver, narrowly losing to a Chinese swimmer.

Without my backstroke to give me a significant lead, I doubt I would have placed at all. Abe and I both make a note to work on my other strokes more thoroughly when we get back to give me a better chance of placing in the future.

On Day Three, we swim the Boys' 4 × 100 m Freestyle final and come in second. Garrett swims the anchor, but it isn't enough for first place in the end.

On Day Four, our bid for Boys' 4 × 100 m Medley glory is successful, and I claim my second gold of The Games.

It calls for a celebration, really, but Abe shuts us down almost immediately, which isn't a surprise at all. The best we can come up with is probably over-indulging in the cafeteria, which is what we decide to do. I'm up for some cake or some ice-cream. Both.

There's a shuttle that can take us, but we opt to walk the short distance. We're probably too jacked up off our win, and there's a bounce in our steps. On our way there, I receive a phone call.

From Bella.

"Hello," I answer.

"Hey, you," she says, and she still sounds off, almost a week later.

I'm just glad she called, even if it's a bad time. I press the phone closer to my ear, and wave my friends on as I slow my pace to talk to her in private. I'll meet them in the cafeteria when I'm done. "How are you?" I ask.

"Better now," she says, "you?"

"Same."

"I miss you."

I glance over my shoulder out of habit before I reply. "I miss you too, Bella," I say, almost automatically. "And, really, I think I was starting to forget what your voice sounded like."

"Ouch," she says. "That's insulting."

"Just saying."

"How are things?" she asks.

"They're good," I tell her because it's the truth. They _are_. "It's Day Four, and we just swam the Boys' 4 x 100 m Medley Relay. We came in first."

"I saw," she says. "It was amazing."

"Thank you."

"Are you going to celebrate?"

I laugh. "I wouldn't say that, no," I tell her. "Abe would probably kill us if we stepped out of line. I'm actually on my way to dinner."

"Oh," she sounds; "do you want to talk later?"

"No," I rush to say. "I want to talk to you now."

She sighs. "It's going to get better, right?"

"What?"

"This awkwardness."

"God, I hope so."

She laughs. "So, what are you planning on having for dinner?"

I take in a breath because I have a lot to say. "The food here is amazing, Bella. Like, insanely good. The cafeteria is literally two stories, and they have everything you'd ever want. Like, _everything_. The choices are driving me a little crazy, if I'm being honest. They also have these little fridges set up in the corridors of the residences, and we can just pop out of our rooms to get water and energy drinks."

"The famous _Gatorade_?"

I sigh. "Unfortunately, no," I tell her. "I don't think it's as international as we like to think."

"It's a travesty."

I laugh, because it is. It really is.

"How's Seth?" she asks after a moment.

"Oh, he's good," I tell her. "I've always been convinced that he has a thing for Jane, but he's definitely enjoying the attention of many of the foreign girls."

"Oh my," she says. "And you?"

"There are girls," I tell her. "They're all so foreign, and they're all so very pretty."

She's quiet for a moment. "Is there a particular one you have your eye on?"

It shouldn't be so difficult to talk about this, and I realize that we're just going to have to push through it until we can get over it. "Maybe," I confess. "But, right now, I'm more focused on swimming."

Again, it takes her a moment to reply. "And you're doing well, Mister," she says. "What is it? Two Golds already!"

"I'm just lucky."

"It has nothing to do with luck, Edward," she says seriously. "It's all your hard work. It's paying off, and that means something."

Boy have I missed her. I want to tell her, but I don't want to make it weird again.

"So, Bella?" I say.

"Hmm?"

"They actually have this nightclub here, I kid you not," I tell her.

"No way?"

"It's literally a single room with a table for the DJ, and that's pretty much it. Seth can't wait to check it out when we're done."

"When _are_ you done?"

"This weekend. Next week's mainly the Athletics, and then diving at the pool," I inform her. "We're going to party hard."

"As expected."

I laugh. "You know me."

"You definitely _are_ a party animal."

"Takes one to know one."

It's silly, really, and we both burst out laughing at how absurd we're being. This is the easy part of being Bella's friend. It's also the hardest part, really. She makes it too easy to like her. She's too good at it, and it'd be too easy to lose myself in her.

"How's Ohio?" I ask, which is a mistake, I quickly realize.

"Fine," she says a little stiffly. "It's been a lot of family time. I missed them, of course, but it's been quite overwhelming. They can be a little much from time to time."

"Do you have a loud family?"

"Oh yes," she says. "My immediate family is relatively quiet. I mean, sure, my mom can talk _a lot_ , but she doesn't talk _loudly_. I swear my aunts think it's some kind of competition or something."

I laugh. "Who's winning?"

"It's a toss-up between two of my mom's sisters, Vanessa and Joanna. I'll keep you posted about that though, because my cousin may or may not be staking a claim."

"Are you visiting your old stomping grounds?" I ask, which is another mistake.

"Sure."

I can hear something in her voice that unsettles me. "Did something happen, Bella?"

"It's nothing," she says quickly. _Too quickly_.

"Bella?" I question.

She sighs. "Some people aren't very nice, are they?"

"No they aren't, no," I tell her. "But some are."

"Some are," she echoes. Then: "How can you tell?"

"You can't."

"Then how do you pick who's worth your time?"

"I wouldn't know," I confess, because I haven't yet figured it out. "How did you make your decision about me?"

She waits a beat. "I haven't yet."

I let out a laugh. "Oh, well, that's a relief, I guess."

She's silent for a long moment, and it fills me with worry. "I miss you, Edward."

Again, my reply is automatic. "I miss you too."

We talk a bit more, and I worry _so much_. I can't help it. She bids me farewell, and tells me to make sure I eat all my calories, which should make me chuckle, but I don't. She hangs up first, and I just stare at my screen for an obscene amount of time.

Something feels broken between us. Cracked. Disjointed, and I blame Jane for it. Seth wouldn't have said anything to Bella, but Jane's always been an instigator. I love her, I do, but it's really annoying.

I turn when I hear a group of people approaching, and try to school my features into something passable as less than _heartbreak_. It doesn't work. Maybe my eyes are shining with concern, and maybe my face is red with worry. Who knows?

"Are you okay?"

There's a group of girls looking at me curiously.

Over the past few days, I've met lots of people and had conversations with countless more. But I haven't said a word about Bella. To anyone. Least of all to Seth, who knows that Bella's boyfriend is Jacob Black. Really, it's surprising that Jane doesn't know. Or she does, and she just wanted to create drama. Teenage girls, I tell you.

I sigh. "Umm."

One of the girls steps towards me. "That bad, huh?"

I clear my throat. "Tell me about it."

The four of them smile collectively.

"It's either your parents," one of them says. She's tall, with brown hair and a nice tan.

"Or a girl," another one says. She's more petite. Small. Really, she's _tiny_.

"Or a boy."

I can't help my laugh at the blonde-haired girl. She looks a mixture between serious and playful, and it throws me slightly.

"So, which one is it?" the first one asks.

"A girl," I say, and this girl isn't even my girlfriend. "Why are you all so complicated?"

They all laugh this time, because I suspect they don't know either.

"It's part of our genetic make-up," the petite one says, and I just nod. "You're Edward Cullen, aren't you?"

"I am," I say, nodding again. "Hi." I wave awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

"South Africa."

"USA," I say, probably unnecessarily. I smile at them. "I'm a swimmer. Who are you and what are you all here for?"

"I'm Juliet," the first one says; "Rowing."

"Rosalie," the petite one says; "Diving."

"Hey," I say; "that's so cool - my best friend's name is Rosalie too."

She smiles at me, before the next one speaks.

"I'm Tracy, and I play tennis."

"Cool," I say.

"I'm Emma," the last one - the blonde - says, smiling softly. "I'm a runner."

"Long distance?"

"Sprinter, actually."

I smile at them all. "Pretty hardcore, I won't lie," I tell them.

"Thanks," Rosalie says. "So, back to your girl trouble."

"Is it here with you?" Juliet asks.

"Partly," I admit, because it followed me here. I wasn't able to leave it behind. I should have known better than to try.

"Want to talk about it?"

I'll admit that I'm tempted. It'd be easy to pile my problems on other people, just to get some advice, because I clearly don't know what I'm doing. I'm only sixteen years old. I'm too young for this, really.

I end up telling them everything.

It's almost comical the way they react to the fact I like a girl with a boyfriend. It basically reaffirms that it was always going to be a bad idea. What was I thinking?

"No, Edward, no," Tracy says, shaking her head. "Bad move. Major bad move."

"And she _knows_?" Rose asks.

"My one friend kind of told her," I say with a headshake of my own.

"Oh, boy."

"It doesn't matter that you don't like her boyfriend; you don't go after another boy's girl."

"But I'm not," I counter immediately, raising my hands in innocence. "I never intended to, I swear." I don't mention The Lizard Room, because that was something else entirely. I wouldn't even know where to begin with that because I still don't know what to make of it.

We were going to kiss. I know we were.

"But you like her," Emma says.

It's like a therapy session, really, with these four South African bombshells, and I'm talking. I can't seem to stop.

"I do," I say; "I mean, I _did_."

"So you don't like her anymore?"

"I - "

"Oh, Edward," Juliet says, shaking her head. "You're in deep, aren't you?"

"No," I say. "I'm fine, really. It's fine." I brace myself to tell them about Kate. There isn't much to tell though. There's just the _possibility_ of something, and I feel slightly relieved as I finally air it.

"And this one doesn't have a boyfriend?"

"Uh..."

"Oh Edward," Rosalie says, rolling her eyes. "You're completely hopeless."

"I am, I really am," I say; "but you're all just so complicated."

"What can we say?" Juliet says with a shrug.

"Yeah, yeah, it's the genes," Emma adds.

I shrug as well. "Were you guys headed to the cafeteria?"

"We are."

"Do I have the honor of accompanying you?"

Juliet nods, smiling. "By all means, yes."

For the rest of the night, I'm able to forget about my problems. It's not the easiest, but the win celebrations and our new friends really help. It isn't until later that night that it all comes back to me. Sure, I have my own problems, and Bella has hers, but it hurts that I can't help with whatever is bothering her.

I can't get to sleep, so I decide on a walk. I don't really make it very far, just downstairs and out to the front of the building where I locate a bench and sit down to think. I'm worried about Bella being in Ohio. She told me they left for a reason, and it bothers me that that reason hasn't seemed to have disappeared. So I worry. Desperately.

"Edward?"

I turn my head sharply to spy Kate walking towards me. She's dressed in her tracksuit, but I can see her pajama top poking out through the collar.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks.

I shrug. "Can't sleep," I admit. "You?"

"Same," she says, moving to sit down next to me.

"I don't even know why."

"Neither do I."

It doesn't make sense, because neither of us is even swimming tomorrow. But maybe it does. I'm thinking about Bella when I really shouldn't be.

I can't stop.

Then I reason that it wouldn't hurt to start thinking about someone else. I won't ask anything of Bella, for _reasons_. I wouldn't anyway, because I know this will pass. I'm convinced my crush stems from the fact that Bella pays attention to me. That isn't a base to start anything, particularly in a school like ours.

"Say, Kate?" I ask.

She turns her head to look at me. "Hmm?"

"This is probably a personal question, but, umm, you don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

She smiles softly at me, which I take to be a good sign. She doesn't answer me straight away. Actually, she doesn't answer me at all. Instead, she leans in and kisses me, gentle and quick. Just a press of her lips against mine.

"What do _you_ think?" she asks before she stands up and walks away.

I'm left rooted to the spot, in shock.

I smile.

What _do_ I think?

* * *

On Day Five, I have a day off from swimming, but I still go to the pool to support the others.

Day Six is the big one though. I swim in three events, which is exhausting: The Boys' 200 m Backstroke, the Boys' 100 m Freestyle and the 4 × 100 m Medley Mix. I'm a busy boy, really.

I don't place in the Freestyle, but I take gold and set a new World Junior Record in the 200 m Backstroke. It's a big moment for me. One of the biggest, really, because this is my stake. Backstroke is my way _in_ , and it all seems so worth it.

My father's there, and my brothers. And Seth.

And Kate.

I'm oddly emotional, because it's all so much, and I kind of wish Esme was here as well.

"Edward, we'll celebrate later," Abe says, clapping me on the back. "Put your tracksuit back on. Get warm. There's one more race."

There always will be, won't there?

I sit with my father while I wait, and Esme calls his phone so I can talk to her. She screams in my ear and tells me congratulations _._ She says she's proud of me.

 _She's proud of me_.

I can't find the words to tell her what it all means to me. Even if I could; I doubt I'd be able to say them because I'm too embarrassed by my own reaction.

"Thank you, Esme," I tell her. It's been more than ten years, and I've never called her anything other than Esme. She's never said anything to me about it, but I suspect it hurts her sometimes. And now, after the non-fight we had; it probably hurts her more.

"Thank y _o_ u, Mom _,"_ I say, and I can't mistake her gasp. "I'll talk to you later, okay? There's another race coming up."

"Oh, okay, Sweetheart," she says, her voice catching. "Good luck."

"Thank you," I say again, and end the call.

My father is grinning at me when I hand him back his phone.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, taking his phone and dropping it into his jacket pocket. "Just, thank you."

I don't reply.

Moments later, Abe comes to get me. It's time.

Peter and Liam scream good luck, and then I head down to wait with my teammates. I'm swimming the Backstroke leg, Carmen the Butterfly, Kate the Breaststroke and Garrett the Freestyle.

It isn't a surprise that we do well, though we finish behind the Chinese and the Russians.

Overall, on a personal level, my medal haul is noteworthy, and the press coverage is significant. They keep saying that Edward Cullen is the one to watch for the future, and I'm ready for it. I am so very ready.

That night, we do celebrate.

 _Big time_.

I say that because of what happens with Kate. Maybe it's the high of my success, or something else entirely - possibly a drink or two - but my openness to the idea of her surprises us both. Which is why, by the end of the night, which is really the early morning, Kate is _mine_. We dance and we flirt and, when I drop her off at her room door, it's almost inevitable.

She falls silent first.

I follow, my movements stilling.

She looks me in the eye.

I try not to think of Bella.

She licks her lips.

I fail.

She raises an eyebrow, almost daring me to make a move.

I do.

I step towards her, cupping her cheek with one hand, and sliding the other around her waist.

She's warm, and she's soft and smiling.

I want this. I'm sure I do.

I lean in.

This time, I'm not caught off guard. This time, it isn't one of those soft, gentle kisses that are hesitant and testing. It's _more_. And, as we kiss, it becomes increasingly apparent that Kate has more experience than I do.

Also, it just doesn't feel the way that it should. I don't know what it _should_ feel like, but it's not this. I don't know if it's me, or if it's her, but I'm the one to pull away first.

She's smiling, so maybe I'm a better actor than I thought.

We kiss again.

I try desperately not to think about a certain brunette.

Again, I fail.

* * *

The second week of the Games is an eventful one.

Because of Kate. Because of my new South African friends. Because of Seth. Because I'm done competing, and now I can just enjoy myself.

Because of Bella.

I don't tell her about Kate, because I can't bring myself to. Bella made it weird, and now I feel as if I can't tell her things.

I don't know if I _want_ to tell her though. I suspect I'll have to at some point, but now isn't the time. We talk on the phone a few times, but the way I'm avoiding talking about Kate is kind of the same way she's avoiding talking about Ohio.

Sure, she gushes about her little cousins, and we have in-depth conversations about whether Harry Potter really should have been in Gryffindor or Slytherin. It isn't a debate or anything. Just a discussion, and I absently wonder if we've reached the point in our friendship where I can reveal just how Harry-obsessed I actually am.

Maybe she'll get freaked out.

"We're leaving early tomorrow," my father says, getting my attention.

I look up from my phone. I don't know what I feel about the fact that he and my brothers are heading home without me. My father wants to spend the weekend at home, allowing himself to get over his jet lag before he has to be at work on Monday.

I don't know a time when my father wasn't working, but it seems as if he's working on something _bigger_ now. I absently wonder if it has something to do with Bella's father, though I doubt I'll ever ask. It may be a family business, but I've always been separate from it - by design, I suspect.

I think it's because of my interest in swimming. It's doubtful that I'll go into the family business until I've exhausted all I can to reach my dream of Olympic glory, and maintain it. And the thing is it's a dream I _can_ realize. I mean, it's one thing to _want_ to achieve something, but a person has to have some of the talent to back it up for success.

Abe, our coach, claims that I was born to be a swimmer.

I like to think I was born to be something _more_ , but maybe all I'll be is a swimmer. Time will tell, I guess. There are worse things to be.

"Esme's asking what you want as your first dinner back," he says. "To celebrate. Unless you want to go out?"

We don't usually eat out. My brothers don't really like it, and I can't exactly eat half a kilogram of pasta in public, now can I?

"Surprise me," I say.

He grins, and his amusement seems to shine in his eyes.

"I'm going to have to meet with Rebecca when we get back," I tell him.

He nods. "I had a chat with Abe," he says. "He and Kevin will liaise, and your training will change, of course."

I also nod.

His features soften. "We're all very proud of you, Edward," he says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You've worked so hard, and you've accomplished _so much_."

"It doesn't stop here, Dad," I say.

"I know," he returns. "I just - I want you to know that we see you, and we're proud of you. Enjoy this accomplishment, Son. Savor it."

I set my phone aside and get to my feet.

He looks a little confused, but that disappears when I hug him. My father and I aren't huggers. Esme is _sort of_ a hugger. She hugs Peter and Liam daily, and me on special occasions. But my father and I are too similar.

But we hug, and I feel the comfort of it for the first time.

He's proud of me.

He's proud.

Screw Olympic glory - _this_ is what I wanted.

Okay, not _entirely_ true.

But still.

He's proud of me, and it means the world to me.


	7. From A Distance

**Chapter Seven: From A Distance  
**

 **BPOV**

While Edward is away, I go to Ohio. Our mutual Seattle departure wasn't exactly planned, but I'm entirely relieved. With Jake at a training camp and Alice still away; I didn't want to be in Seattle without them _all_. My mom booked the tickets, and my parents fought about it. I didn't hear what it was actually about, but I imagine this is yet another nail in the coffin that is slowly becoming my parents' marriage.

So, my mom takes the boys and me with her to Columbus. It isn't as if anyone knows we're here, because I've decided I won't leave the house. At all. I've come to see my family anyway; why would I have to leave the house?

I end up doing it anyway, and it's a mistake. A big, _big_ mistake. My mom asks me about it, but I can't bring myself to talk about it. It's just a thing that's happened, and I won't let it ruin my time with my family.

The days fly past and, before I know it, we're headed back to Seattle, and Edward is coming back.

My time in Ohio is eye-opening, to say the least, and I was able to talk to my grandmother about my boy situation. Of course, I tended to gloss over most of the details, because I didn't want her to think that I'm unhappy in my relationship.

Because I'm not.

I'm just _not happy_. There's a difference, right? It's not all of the time, but it's _most_ of the time.

Jake and I, somehow, we _work_. He isn't constantly _there_ , which is something I appreciate. Also, he _knows_ , and the fact that he accepts it for what it is, means something to me. Well, right now, it kind of means everything because it's impossible to know if anyone _after_ will accept it as much as he does.

Edward and I, the logistics are just too much. I mean, we can barely be friends without our entire school having a problem with it; how could we possibly -

No.

Just, no.

I guess I just really miss Edward, and I need to see him. I'm even tempted to go to the airport to pick him up, but I reason it isn't the best idea. I'd probably embarrass him with the strength of my hug or break out into a happy dance to rival all happy dances.

I've missed him. And my time in Ohio has me seeing _relatively_ clearly about this entire situation for the first time.

But.

Well. You see.

It catches me off guard.

Maybe I've been so used to his attention being solely on me that I don't quite know what to think about it. Because, when Edward casually mentions a _girl_ , it catches me _way_ off guard.

Wait. What?

I look away, and then look back at him, trying to settle the churning in the pit of my stomach. He landed early yesterday, and I had to get my mom to drop me off because Edward didn't make any active plans to see me. I guess that should have been the first sign.

"I'm sorry," I say; "what did you say?"

He frowns slightly, his eyes on me as he sits across the kitchen nook from me. Maybe he's decided to just push through, and see how we come out of it. "I said her name is Kate."

"Kate," I echo.

"The girl we sort of discussed but not really," he continues, and I remember. Oh, I _remember_. "We're trying."

I blink. "You're trying."

"Granted, she is across the country right now, but I like her, and we're willing to see how this thing goes."

"How it goes."

He leans forward. "Bella?"

I'm _so_ caught off guard, and it takes me a moment. There's a girl. Edward has a girl.

Oh.

It's for the best, right? Everything I was feeling was just because I was missing my best friend. It isn't as if I actually _like_ him or anything.

Jesus. Who am I kidding?

"She's also a swimmer?" I force out.

I must do a good job of acting normal because his face breaks out into a grin. "She is, yeah," he says. "Her specialty is breaststroke." Despite himself, he giggles, his cheeks turning red. "Sorry," he says, shaking his head. "The boys can be dogs sometimes. I'll be back to normal soon."

This whole thing is so weird. It's like he came back from Singapore an entirely new person and it's throwing me for a loop. I want to go back. I wish I could rewind time to before I went to watch him train.

No.

To before that night at The Lizard Room.

He went away liking me, and he came back liking another girl.

It's for the best.

 _It is_.

It has to be.

The thing is that I was actually considering breaking up with Jake when he gets back from training. I tell myself that it wouldn't be for Edward, but for me. It's partly a lie, I know, because now I know I won't go through with it. Oh God, just, what is happening?

"Bella?"

"I'm happy for you," I blurt out, because I am. I want him to be happy. Of course, I do. It's selfish of me to want to be the only one who makes him that way, and I'm just going to have to accept whatever this is.

He regards me carefully, looking for _something_. Maybe he finds it, or maybe he doesn't, because he moves on anyway. I feel so unsettled. Maybe I should go home.

He clears his throat. "So, I have to tell you about the night we went to the nightclub."

"Oh wow, you actually went to that little room?"

He laughs, and my heart stills. I really have missed him. _So much_.

"It was actually quite cool," he tells me, his eyes shining. "Of course, we had to sneak out to go because, even after we were done, Abe was still acting the warden. Sasha was also being a real princess, so we left her behind." He looks guilty for a moment, but still smiles. "It really was quite cool, with all these flashing lights, and the people. _The people_ , Bella! But, really, it was the music. It was epic."

I just watch him become increasingly animated, and an automatic smile spreads across my face. _This_ is my Edward.

"So, we get there, and it's me, Seth, Garrett, Kate, Carmen and some others, and it's literally pumping. The walls are shaking, and people are jumping. They played a lot of American stuff, and a lot of House, but they _really_ like their EDM stuff. The trance music, as they say."

I nod for him to continue, because this story is forcing me to stop thinking about the _other_ thing he just told me.

"So we're there, and we're jamming, and Seth spots this girl. She's pretty. Like, stop-what-you're-doing kind of pretty, and he's totally gunning her. She can't speak a word of English though, but he's still going for it." He laughs at the memory. "So he's there, attempting to chat her up when this bulk of a guy comes out of nowhere and just shoves him.

"I didn't even see it coming, and it took Garrett and me a moment to get moving to back up our guy, you know? I mean, this _Hulk_ guy looks like he wants to punch Seth, and nobody even knows why. I get between them, and try to calm everyone down before somebody gets punched, you know? He spoke Spanish apparently, and I'm trying to remember how to say 'Back off, bro,' but all I can remember is how to order food. I take French, you know?"

I laugh out loud, and his eyes meet mine.

"I try to get the words out, but I'm failing miserably, then the pretty girl steps out from behind the _Hulk_ man, and says 'Let me explain.' Can you imagine? She could speak English the entire time. Seth was heartbroken."

I shake my head in amusement. "Was he her boyfriend?"

"Twin brother, apparently." He shudders. "They looked nothing alike, by the way."

I smile at him, and he smiles back.

For a moment, I forget.

But then I remember.

Edward runs a hand through his hair. "You're lucky you caught me," he says casually. "I'm actually headed out to meet Rose and Emmett."

I blink. "Oh?"

"And then training," he says, bouncing slightly as if he's excited about it.

"But didn't you just land?"

He shrugs. "It never stops, Bella," he says. "This is who I am, you know? I'm a swimmer."

I want to tell him that he's so much _more_ , but I don't have the words. This feels like a dismissal. Also, I try not to think about the fact that he obviously made plans with Rosalie and Emmett, but not with me.

"I've tasted what it feels like to win," he continues, "and I want more. I want so much more, Bella."

I just nod. I can see it in his eyes. There's renewed drive there. Maybe it has nothing to do with his mother after all.

He smiles once more before he downs the rest of his water. I did something to us when I made it weird. We've talked about it, sure, but we've never really _talked_ about it. He told me that he could make it go away, and he has.

So why does the mere idea that he was able to do it make me so uncomfortable?

* * *

Whether subconsciously or not, I pay closer attention to my relationship with Jake until things start to settle down again. I like the idea of a mundane existence, just for a few days.

Like a breather.

Just a moment to gather myself, given all the emotions going on inside of me.

It's almost a relief when school draws near. I miss the routine of it all. And, frankly, I miss seeing other people too. I miss Angela, and I miss Alice and Jasper. I miss Ben too, but I think he's given up on us.

Well, he's given up on Angela.

I just need school. Some sort of a distraction. Just, something other than the boy with green-grey eyes and bronze, unruly hair.

Edward is intoxicating without even trying.

Jake is overwhelming because he tries to be, and succeeds.

I have half a mind to call Eli and tell him that I'm ready to play again. There's so much inside of me, and I'm ready to let it out. Eli always says it's the tortured souls who make the best music. It's twisted, isn't it? Taking pain, and turning it into art. How messed up is that?

The day before school actually starts, Alice and Angela come over, and we discuss the classes we're planning on taking. It's almost a waste of time because Waite Academy is rude, but we're still going to try. We'll be lucky if the three of us can get into even one class altogether.

I suspect Waite knows who's friends with who, and they actively try to keep people apart.

Maybe it's a good thing they don't know about Edward and me.

Or a bad thing.

Alice tells us about her trip to Europe, detailing her travels through Italy, Greece and Turkey. It almost makes me jealous, but then she talks about the political unrest and the extreme heat.

But still.

I would have liked to go that far away. Actually, I would have liked to go to South Africa.

While she was away, jet-setting and all; I could only watch the World Cup along with the rest of the world. Ohio was as far as I went, while so many people flocked to South Africa to witness Spain take the title in quite the football final. It was ugly and beautiful at the same time. We watched it as a family, all five of us, which was actually rather nice.

Alice tells us about the boys she met, and reiterates that Jasper is definitely the one for her. Even at just sixteen years old, she sounds so sure. I'm glad, because at least one of us should be not unhappy.

Angela's borderline miserable most of the time, though she perks up when Alice reminds her that she's going to get to see Edward in the morning. So am I, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. School will be good for us. I'm sure it will.

I shoot a glare at Alice when Angela starts on and on about Edward, but Alice just looks amused. Maybe she missed Angela's rambling, because I definitely didn't. Particularly when it's about Edward Cullen, who is a boy I'm learning is so much more than what she thinks. One day I'll tell her, but that day isn't today.

Angela is the first to hear home after she receives a call from her mother. Alice and I tease her, of course, but she leaves us in her wake, Edward Cullen on all of our minds. Well, he's definitely on mine. He usually is.

"So..." Alice starts, as soon as Angela has left.

I look at her. "So... what?"

"Do you want to tell me what has my dear Bella Swan all tense?"

Of course, she would pick up on it. She's almost as perceptive as Edward is - or he used to be. I don't know what's happening with him, to be honest. It's as if he's _trying_ to be distant. Maybe he's punishing me for making it weird or something like that.

Alice just has this _way_ about her, and I'm trying not to be annoyed. But I am. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"Sure you don't," she sing-songs, as she rolls over onto her stomach, to look at me from my bed. "Bella?"

"It's nothing," I say.

"Is it about Jake?" she asks, and I look away. Part of it _is_ about Jake, but I don't want to talk about that. "About Ohio then?" she asks.

My eyes snap towards her. "What?" I practically bark.

She looks alarmed by my reaction, and I don't blame her. "Uh, it's just, well, you've always been so against talking about Ohio, and I was just worried because you don't really seem the same as before you left. Or _I_ left. Whichever."

I swallow audibly. "It's not about Ohio."

"Then what is it?"

I want to tell her. I want so badly to tell her everything, but the words won't come. "I guess I'm just thinking about my birthday," I say, deciding that it's the safest thing to say. It's also a safe bet at a distraction when it comes to Alice Brandon.

Her face breaks out into a wide smile. "Oh, right," she says. "What _are_ we doing for your birthday?"

"I don't know," I admit.

"I'm guessing you don't want anything big, so maybe a small dinner the Saturday after," she offers. "Just your friends and family."

It kind of makes me uncomfortable that Edward probably wouldn't be at the dinner. Because he's my friend. Really, he's one of my best friends.

"I can do all the planning," she continues. "I promise I won't go too overboard."

"Do you even know what that means?"

She laughs. "I've toned it down, I promise. We're juniors now, Bella."

"I don't know what that means."

"This year is going to be different," she says. "We're upperclassmen now. It's going to be different."

I still don't know what that means, but it almost feels as if she's trying to tell me something important. I suspect that she knows _something,_ but even she doesn't know what that something is. I don't know either.

Okay. That's a lie.

It's Edward. Edward is the _thing_.

When Alice leaves, I spend some time making sure my uniform is properly pressed and lay it out over my desk and desk chair. I pack my schoolbag and take a moment to gather myself.

This year will be a good one.

It better be.

Before I fall asleep, I text Jake, and get a quick reply. I'm surprised, though I don't say so. He's going to be a senior this year, and I suspect that _something_ will be expected of me, given that I'm now a senior's girlfriend. It's some kind of club that a person joins, particularly since I'm not a senior myself.

Anyway, with school starting, my curfew's back. It's ten thirty during the week now, eleven on Friday and Sunday, and midnight on Saturday. Party nights are open to negotiation, though I don't see many of those occurring.

I'll save it for Mike's end-of-year bash.

I fall asleep pretty quickly, and it feels like only a second passes before my alarm goes off, and I'm ripped from a dream about a boy with green-grey eyes. It's easy to get through my morning routine, and then I head downstairs for breakfast, ready to face this day I'm not entirely sure that I want to happen anymore.

I was so sure, but now I'm not.

"Mom?" I ask as I enter the kitchen and find my mom staring into space, a cup of coffee clasped between her hands. "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes meet mine. "No, Sweetheart."

I don't believe her, and it must show on my face.

"Just the first day of school is all," she says. "Don't get me wrong, I do love you kids very much, but I can't wait to cart you all out of here so I can finally have some peace."

"Oh, well, thanks," I say sarcastically, but she barely reacts. "Maybe you should have a spa day," I tell her.

She laughs. "Oh, definitely."

"I'm serious," I say. "Maybe call Esme, and see if you two can make an entire occasion of it."

She raises her eyebrows. "Esme, huh?"

I blush lightly. "Uh, _Mrs. Cullen_?"

"Mrs. Cullen," she echoes.

I take a breath. "Do you not like her?" I ask.

"What?"

I blink. "You just seem..." I trail off, reading her facial expression. "Wait. Do you not like _Edward_?"

She frowns. "Now, Bella, he's just a boy. Why would I not like him?"

"Then what is it?" I press.

She looks at me for a long moment, before she asks a question that catches me off guard: "Have the two of you ever fought?"

"Excuse me?"

"You and Edward," she says. "Have the two of you ever fought?"

I frown. "Umm, no," I say. Not _really_. "Why?"

She looks elsewhere for a moment. "I just don't think that my mixing with your father's boss' wife is a good idea," she says.

"Is that what you think about Edward and me?" I ask, my tone bordering on incredulous. "That I shouldn't be friends with him because his dad is Dad's boss?"

"Of course not," she says. "I just worry. I'm a mom, and a wife, and it's my job to worry."

"But - "

"I worry about the day that you two _do_ fight, and how that will affect your father's - "

"Dad's what?"

"His promotion, Sweetheart."

I frown. "What does Edward have to do with that?" I ask. It takes me a moment. "Do you really think that Edward would say something to his dad if we did ever fight?"

Her silence is answer enough.

"Oh, my God, Mom," I say, shaking my head.

"Can you honestly say that he wouldn't?" she questions, and it stumps me for a moment.

"Edward and I have things to worry about other than the fact that our dads are workaholics," I snap in irritation.

Her eyes meet mine, and her entire body deflates.

"Just call Esme," I say, looking and sounding equally defeated. "She gets it, or whatever. She's nice, Mom, and maybe you need a friend, seeing as you refuse to interact with Alice's mom."

"She tried to give me a makeover the day we met," she says, smiling at me.

I'm just glad that we've moved on from Edward. She doesn't know him, and I don't want her talking about him as if she does. Something protective roars to life within me, and it throws me. Since when is he mine to protect?

"Esme isn't like Janice," I say. "I can assure you of that."

Before she can respond in the affirmative or negative, Riley comes tumbling in. "Toast, I want toast."

"Where are your manners?" I ask.

"The same place as your good looks, apparently."

I fake indignation. "Idiot." I punch his shoulder. "I have the power to make your life a living hell, you know that?"

"What are you going to do? Sick your boyfriend on me."

For a terrifying moment, I think about Edward.

"Jake doesn't even go to our school, remember?" he reminds me, but it does nothing to curb my racing heart. What is wrong with me? Seriously.

"Okay, okay," my mom says. "We can continue this lovely conversation later. Where's your brother?"

Riley and I exchange a look. "I don't know," we say at the same time.

She says. "I know we've been out of practice for a while, but it can't be that difficult to get back into the swing of things."

"But I'm ready," I point out.

"So am I," Riley says. "I mean, after I have my toast, of course."

"Make it yourself," I tell him.

My mom just nods, and then rushes off to find Max.

The morning gets off to an okay start, I reason. It could have been worse. I'm not yet licensed, so my mom has to drop us all off, though she's probably relieved that she now has to go to two schools instead of three. She's cursed whoever decided that Waite Academy needed separate campuses to the nines since we got to Seattle.

Riley's a high school freshman this year.

Admittedly, I'm a little worried. Emmett McCarty has a thing for fresh meat, and I sincerely hope that he doesn't pick on my little brother. I don't know what I'll do, and I don't want to put Edward in a position where he'll have to -

What?

What will he have to do? Strategically steer Emmett away? Stand up to Emmett? How can I ask him to do any of that?

The parking lot at school is busy when we arrive, and Riley quickly rushes off to find his friends. Without saying goodbye, might I add. I just watch him go, trying not to care, and then I go looking for my own friends. I find Ben first, but he's hanging out with other people now, so our conversation is quick. Just, _hi, how are you, how was your holiday_ , and then I'm off again.

I find Angela at the registration desk in front of the reception, and we both pick up our registration packs. As expected, we don't have homeroom together, but we're trying to get Pre-Calculus with Trigonometry and AP English together. We'll be lucky if we can get at least one.

I have Mr. Coulson for homeroom, and I'm relieved when I find Jasper in the corner talking to Jared. I get a bear hug out of the blond stallion, and then I hear all about his summer spent down south, with Jared temporarily forgotten.

Apparently, it's okay for Jared to be friends with other people, but Edward Cullen could and would cause a frenzy. It's sad that they're at different levels of - what? Popularity? Expectations?

"So I've decided something," Jasper says.

"Oh, boy."

"One day, I'm going to marry Alice Brandon."

I just look at him. "Okay, what happened?"

"Nothing," he says. " _Everything_."

I wait.

"Do you ever just know, Bella?" he asks. "Like, one day, you wake up, and the world makes sense, because there's this person in your life, who sees you, and knows you, and loves you regardless of who you were, are, and will be?"

Even though we're still so young, I realize that I probably have that with Jake. I've had it for a while, really, but it's Edward who comes to mind. Maybe if I told him about Ohio, he would walk away, and I would let him.

Then all the weirdness would go.

But then, so would he.

Ahh.

"Bella?" Jasper prompts. "Oh my, you _do_ know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

I don't say anything.

"Is it Jake?" he asks, and the fact that he actually has to ask me the question means something. He probably doesn't see Jake and I lasting much longer. _Either_.

"Okay, okay," Mr. Coulson says, interrupting our conversation, and we all turn to look at him. "Welcome back, _yay_. You're juniors now, and you probably think you're important and blah blah blah. I don't care. I'm going to take register. If you're here, good for you. If you're not, then that's not my fault."

Jasper leans in to whisper to me. "He had a good summer then, didn't he?"

"Apparently."

"Maybe he found out the Clapp is back."

"What?" I squeak, and several heads turn to look at me. I can barely pay them any attention, my eyes on Jasper. "What did you just say?"

He lets out a laugh. "Apparently, they asked the old flounder to come back," he says.

"But why?" I ask, my voice slightly panicked. "Why would they do that? He's five seconds away from death. What are they trying to do to us? What are they trying to do to _me_?"

"It's your own fault you refuse to play a school sport," he says smugly. "If you did, you could use that period for something else."

"Shut up, Mr. I'm-Going-to-College-for-Baseball."

He shrugs. "Like I said. It's your own fault."

It _is_ my own fault, and I realize that I'm going to have to do what I swore I wouldn't. Oh boy. I want to say something more to Jasper, but Mr. Coulson calls out a name that makes the hairs on the skin of my forearm stand on end.

"Cullen, Edward."

There's silence for a moment before I hear his voice. "Present."

"Smartass," Mr. Coulson comments, before he moves on.

I stare at the back of Edward's head, because he's sitting in front of us now, with Jared.

Wait.

Edward is here. In my homeroom.

 _Sweet Jesus_.

How on Earth am I supposed to survive this year with him _right there_?

He must have seen me when he walked in, and I didn't see him. Is this part of the thing he's doing where he's acting distant, or is this, hey, we're at school and we're not actually friends, remember?

I mean, I can't blame him for acting distant. _I'm_ the one who ignored him when I found out that he liked me. Which he doesn't now. It was nothing, just like he said it was, and I can't keep myself from hating it. It's selfish of me, or cliché or something else. Something bad. Something _wrong_.

If he can get over it, then so can I.

"Swan, Isabella."

"Present," I say automatically.

"Har har," Mr. Coulson fakes a laugh, and Edward looks over his shoulder at me, a mischievous grin on his face.

I return it before I drop my gaze, and the moment passes.

Maybe we'll be okay after all.

"Wang, Jared," Mr. Coulson calls out.

"Here."

"Whitlock, Jasper."

"Present," Jasper says from beside me.

Mr. Coulson sighs dramatically. "Oh good, you're all here," he says sarcastically. "Now, hand in your registration forms and get to assembly. You'll come back here afterward to pick up your schedules."

That's all he says.

Jasper puts a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, let's go before he pulls out an atomic bomb and obliterates us all."

I laugh as I stand and stretch. I can feel Edward's eyes on me. And I thought coming to school would give me an escape from the whirlwind of thoughts that accompany the mere idea of him. Silly me.

Jasper takes a moment to pack up his things, and I lead the way out of the classroom, but I trip over myself on my way and end up bumping into someone in front of me.

Edward turns to look at me and grins.

"Sorry," I say, blushing.

"If you wanted a hug, all you had to do is say so," he whispers, and I blush that much more.

"Shut up," I whisper back, and he pinches my forearm, making me yelp.

Jasper is suddenly at my side. "You okay?" he asks.

"Fine," I say. "Just tried to bowl over Edward here."

"Unsuccessfully," Edward adds, and Jasper just looks between us.

An awkward and uncomfortable moment later, Edward turns and walks away. I don't look at Jasper as I start to walk again. I don't need his curious eyes, and I sure as hell don't need him to ask me unwanted questions.

The Hall is packed when Jasper and I arrive, and it takes us a moment to spot Alice and Angela. _And_ Ben.

"What the - " I say, and look at Jasper.

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Is this part of your plan?"

"No," he says. "Really, I just wanted to get him jealous enough to take action."

I frown.

"Jared expressed interest," he says.

My eyes widen. "Jared?"

"He's no Edward Cullen, I know," he says with a wink, and I flush instantly. "She'd probably walk all over him, wouldn't she?"

"And ask questions about Edward until his ears started to bleed."

He eyes me again, and I look away. We should really stop talking about Edward. I can't seem to hide my familiarity with the boy. Maybe I should revert to calling him by his name and surname when in the presence of my friends. "Come on," I say, heading towards Alice and Angela. We shuffle through the row and find seats next to them.

The assembly goes quickly, or slowly, because I'm watching Edward. He's sitting a few rows in front of us, and he's constantly looking around, as if he's looking for someone. He stops when his eyes meet mine for a moment, and I realize he was looking for me.

I drop my gaze and fight a blush.

This is going to be a _long_ year, isn't it?

At some point, Angela gasps. "What's this I hear about you and Jasper having Edward Cullen in your homeroom?"

I look past her at Jasper, who's grinning madly. "Jasper and I have Edward Cullen in our homeroom," I echo.

"Why didn't you tell me immediately?"

"I'm trying to pay attention to the assembly," I whisper, and she shakes her head.

"Liar," she says.

I sigh. "There's nothing to tell," I say. "It was like ten minutes."

"But you'll get to spend so much time with him."

If only she knew.

After assembly, Jasper and I head back to Mr. Coulson's classroom. The man, who's notorious for being rather brazen, just grunts and gestures to a pile of schedules on his desk. I search for mine, bypassing Edward's. I'm tempted to swipe it, but I don't. I grab mine and Jasper's, and then move to the back of the classroom so we can study them together.

Almost a minute later, I get a text from Alice with a picture of her schedule attached.

"What classes do you have together?" Jasper asks.

"AP Chemistry, World History and English," I say. "Better than last year, I guess. Three instead of two."

He nods. "You and I have Physics and English together," he says.

I'm about to say something when my phone buzzes again. 'Edythe' shows up on the screen, and Jasper's eyebrows rise.

"Edythe?"

I blink. "A friend from Ohio," I say quickly, my face flushing. What is wrong with me?

I turn my phone away from him, and open Edward's message.

 **Edythe: Biology after lunch?**

 **Beaufort: You know it, Nemo.**

 **Edythe: Be my partner?**

My breath catches in my throat. Wait, what?

 **Beaufort: What about Rosalie?**

 **Edythe: The frog did her in. She's bailing on me. She doesn't love me.**

 **Beaufort: And I do?**

 **Edythe: You know it, Beau.**

I can't help my grin.

 **Beaufort: If you can make it look like an accident, I'm so in. Angela may or may not freak out and die.**

I hear a chuckle somewhere in the classroom, and my heart warms. We are going to be okay. I believe it.

 **Edythe: Is it worth it? ;)**

 **Beaufort: Oh, definitely.**

 **Edythe: I love your priorities. I'll make it happen. You just wait and see.**

"Bella?"

I look up from my phone at Jasper. "Hmm?"

"Anything from Angela?"

My eyes widen before I check my messages. "Right here," I say, and open it. She also sent a picture of her schedule, and I freak out. "Hmm, Pre-Calc first period and World History. Oh my God! We didn't even _try_ for World History. This is awesome!"

"Oh, boy," Jasper says. "God help Mrs. Lowe having the three of you in her class."

I laugh. He's right, of course, because Angela, Alice and I haven't been in the same class since Geometry in our freshman year. We've been dying for this moment. I text them both, and I imagine I hear their squeals of excitement from their respective homerooms.

My phone buzzes again.

 **Edythe: Wait. Am I going to have to fight Mike for you?**

 **Beaufort: You'd win.**

 **Edythe: That's a no-brainer, but I wouldn't want to hurt my dainty little hands unnecessarily.**

 **Beaufort: I thought you were tougher than you looked.**

 **Edythe: Don't you forget it.  
**

I glance his way because I can't help it. I'm not surprised that he's already looking my way, but it still does something to me. Is this flirting? I mean, seriously. I'm burning hot.

Jasper nudges me. "Ready to go?" he asks me.

I nod before I rise to my feet. We walk out together and head towards our new lockers. Swan and Whitlock aren't _that_ far from each other, but his locker is still around the corner.

Cullen is even further away, but I don't look.

I gather the books I need, and then make my way to class where Angela immediately waves at me from her seat in the third row. I have no choice but to move towards her. I sit and take out my books as she talks _at_ me. One would think I didn't even see her yesterday. Apparently, she didn't get it all out of her system.

I want this day to go well, but it feels as if everything Edward and I have been trying to hide is just going to unravel. And I can't help thinking that it won't be that bad. Surely, it won't. We can be friends, can't we? We can make it work.

Ms. Lewis gets us started right away, and I do my best to pay attention to what she says. Our first assembly of the year and homeroom ended up cutting into her lesson, and she looks irritated about it.

Angela is one of those who talks a good game, but she's _very_ work-oriented. Like me, she has quite the course load, though hers is filled up with literature and language, while mine is ambitiously rooted in the sciences.

I still haven't decided if I've kept doors open for the future, or if I've closed them.

Edward always balks whenever we discuss it, and I get it. It's intense. I'm ready for it though. If I want a decent future; I'm going to have to work hard for it. And now, this year, I've made a decision that I hope will go a long way towards my college applications. It's just a relief that Angela and Alice are both on board.

"Okay," Angela says when the lesson is over. "Is it too late to drop this?"

"And take what instead?"

"Multiplication."

I laugh as I get to my feet. "Perk up, Ange," I say; "it only gets worse from here."

She glares at me before she addresses an invisible audience. "My friends, people."

"I'll see you in World History," I say, and I leave her as I head to my next class. I want this day to go well. I want this _year_ to go well, but I don't know if it will. Am I going to have to deal with all these mixed feelings for the entire year?

While Alice and I are in Chemistry, we keep getting texts from Angela, counting down until we're in our first World History lesson. She's definitely excited about it. And the way that Alice is bouncing next to me, she's excited too. Again, I wonder how I fit into this crazy trio.

When the bell rings, Alice darts to her feet, and I barely have time to pack up my things before she's dragging me to our next class.

In World History, Angela, Alice and I sit in a line and decidedly _don't move_.

"This is the greatest day of my life," Angela says, and Alice agrees with her. I want it to be, really, but this day feels _strange_.

We get through the lesson easily enough, and then I head to AP Physics with Jasper. He doesn't wave me over, but he does shift his bag out of the way, and I sit down next to him. The decision to sit together is unspoken but profound.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks, and I'm not. I'm definitely not. You know how I said I wanted school to start; I take it back. I take it all back.

"It's going to be one hell of a year, isn't it?"

He shrugs. "Bella, _you're_ the one who's doing AP Chemistry, AP Physics _and_ AP Biology in the same semester. It's definitely going to be one hell of a year for _you_."

I think of Edward, and the way he always looks at me in wonder whenever he's reminded of _my_ ambition. It just makes me think about what _I_ look like when I look at him. Is it so easy to see on my face how wonderful I think he is?

"How were A-squared in World History?" he asks, referring to Alice and Angela. He refers to all three of us as 'ABA,' which is sometimes cute when you can forget that he's a sixteen-year-old boy.

"Excitable," I comment, as I take out my hardcover. Jasper and I are new to Mrs. Graham's AP class, now that we're Juniors, but we've heard the stories. She's good. Really good.

 _And_ very particular.

I secretly think that we'll get along just fine.

By lunch, I have a headache.

I don't actively try to find Riley, but I do bump into him in the food line. I want to embarrass him so badly, but I don't. The poor kid. It's his first day.

"What are we getting?" I ask him, and he glares at me. "Avoid the tuna, whatever you do."

"I'll bear that in mind," he says through gritted teeth, and then I leave him alone. Shame. He wants to look cool in front of his friends.

It feels good to be back in the dining hall, at our table, with my friends. I missed this part. It's just been an up and down day, hasn't it? Maybe I'm going crazy. It wouldn't be the first time.

When the end of lunch nears, Angela looks at me for the longest time, before she lets out a squeal.

"What?" I ask.

"Why is Edward Cullen looking at me?"

I swallow, absently looking over my shoulder at Edward. He's not _really_ looking at any of us, but rather at some point beyond us that doesn't actually exist. "He's not looking at you, Angela."

"He should be," she says, sounding defeated. "I spent extra time getting ready this morning."

I look at Alice for help, but all she does is shrug.

When I look Edward's way again, he's gone. It's a good thing too because Angela was five seconds away from devolving into another Edward Cullen monologue. She notices that he's gone too, and she begrudgingly gathers our trays like a toddler. I just watch for a beat, before I stand up and retrieve both our bags.

"See you guys later," I say, and then I head to the doors.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don't look at it as I meet up with Angela. We're definitely getting back to routine now, and I'm finding comfort in it. She chats about Alice's plans for my birthday as we head to our lockers.

It's kind of annoying, really. My friends are at either end of the class list, and Swan isn't near either. Brandon, Cheney and Cullen, and then Weber and Whitlock.

Anyway.

Angela bids me farewell, and we head in separate directions. I use the time to check my phone and, unsurprisingly, I have two messages from Edward.

 **Edythe: ARE YOU READY?**

 **Edythe: HOLY SHIT! THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING!**

I'm smiling as I reply, my feet carrying me to Mr. Banner's lab from muscle memory, because I'm definitely not paying attention.

 **Beaufort: Someone's excited. What's happening?**

 **Edythe: JUST YOU WAIT, BEAU!**

 **Edythe: Okay, in all seriousness now, tell me: do you want to sit on the left or on the right?**


	8. Darkness and Light

**Chapter Eight: Darkness and Light  
**

 **EPOV**

She's smiling as she walks towards me, and my heart stills.

How am I ever going to survive this year?

Bella slides into the seat next to me - the one on the right - and I do my best not to react to having her so close, in public. I can practically feel the heat of her. Okay, so maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. Abort, abort.

Every day. _This_. I don't think I can do it. For a full year.

 _Jesus_.

"Hello," Bella says, and I smile at her. "I'm Bella Swan."

"I'm Edward Cullen," I return.

She returns my smile and then shakes her head.

I glance over my shoulder out of habit, before I lean forward to look at her face. "It's raining today."

She blinks. "That's it?" she asks with a small laugh. "That's the first thing we're going to talk about? The weather?"

My smile widens because I can't help it. "I just know how much you love the rain."

"I do," she says, rolling her eyes.

I look past her at Mike, who's sitting next to Jessica. It was hard work trying to get _that_ to happen. Jessica had to pick between Mike and me, and it took a painfully long time for her to decide. I had to act nonchalant the entire time, even as I was secretly hoping she would swing Mike's way. With both of our previous partners having left this year, Jessica would have been my partner by default, and I guess I used my _charm_ to make her think that swapping partners was her idea.

I also figure that Mike realized he didn't stand a chance with Bella and took the opportunity to partner with Jessica. He's an idiot. I mean, I _know_ I don't stand a chance with Bella, but I'd do anything just to spend more time with her. Also, as I sit here, I make a mental note to get Mr. Banner something to thank him. Anonymously, of course, because he doesn't even know what he's done.

"How did you make this happen?" Bella asks.

"Call it the Cullen charm," I tell her.

She raises her eyebrows. "You called your dad?"

I laugh. "Of course not - how insulting!" I tell her. " _I_ did it."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "What did you do?"

"Just say thank you, young lady," I say proudly. "Jessica would have been plotting your murder right now, if it weren't for me."

"I'll thank you later," she says, and there's something suggestive there.

My body tenses.

Mr. Banner clears his throat. Thank God. "Can I get your attention please?" he says. "Welcome to AP Biology. Now, I know some of you think this is going to be like last year, but it isn't. Most of you are juniors now, and preparations for your finals start _right now_."

"Oh, boy," I whisper.

The side of Bella's mouth lifts up, but she says nothing. If I thought my course load was something to write home about; Bella's just gives me anxiety. On top of my swimming schedule, I could never manage it. I'd probably combust or something.

"Stop staring at me," Bella whispers, and I immediately look away.

I was staring. It's the first day of school, and I'm _already_ staring. Heaven help me.

The lesson sort of flies by, I guess. I'm not really paying attention anyway. Mr. Banner could be telling us the world's secrets, and I wouldn't even know. Because I'm staring at a girl who isn't even my girlfriend.

When the lesson's over, I look at her. "Do you have Phys. Ed. now?" I ask.

"No."

My eyes widen. "You don't?"

"I've decided to play a sport," she says, and my mouth drops open. "Which means that I have English to get to right now."

I whip out my phone as I watch her pack up her things and leave the classroom.

 **Edythe: Wait. You're playing a SPORT?  
**

It takes her a few minutes to reply, and I suspect she's just made it to English. I'm in my next class as well.

 **Beaufort: I play lacrosse now. Didn't you know?**

 **Edythe:** **Since when?**

 **Beaufort: Since this morning.**

 **Beaufort: For the reserve, reserve, reserve, reserve team. The 'E' Team, essentially. No tryout required, practice once or twice a week, depending on if our coach feels up to it, and we never actually play any games. Isn't it perfect? Alice, Angela and I are doing it to make space for an extra course.  
**

 **Edythe: Don't lie. You only did it because you heard the Clapp was back.**

 **Beaufort: Shut up.**

I laugh, before I pocket my phone and focus on trying not to give away that I may or may not be in a little more than _like_ with this girl.

A girl who is not my girlfriend.

My last lesson of the day is Honors French with Madame Pince. All my friends have chosen Spanish, except for Rose who's doing Italian. Bella's in this class too, but she's already sitting in the front row next to Ben Cheney when I arrive. I slip into a seat behind them, trying to act casual about it, and whip out my notebook. And my phone.

 **Edythe: Do you think French really is the language of love?**

I watch her reach for her phone a moment later, and then she looks over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the room. She sees me, but she doesn't acknowledge me.

 **Beaufort: Apparently, the most romantic language is Gaelic.**

 **Edythe: Who said that?**

 **Beaufort: Who didn't?**

I put my phone away when Madame Pince calls for our attention, and I'm almost relieved that there's nobody sitting next to me. It's a surprise, really, but I embrace it. Maybe my scowl sends them away. Why am I even scowling?

Madame Pince outlines what we're going to do this semester in extreme detail before she dismisses us early. I take my time gathering my things, mainly because I want to watch Bella leave. Which is what I do. It's a problem, and I can't keep doing this. I need to get it together.

I head to my locker and reason that I have some time to kill before I have to be at practice, so I head home. I call Kate because I _want_ to miss her. It shouldn't be this difficult. We chat for a while before I head to the pool and be my pre-Bella, anti-social self. If I'm being honest, I'm still a little annoyed at Jane for the role she played in making things weird with Bella.

I also just want to train.

So I do. Hard.

As a result, I'm completely exhausted by the time I get home. I have dinner, which isn't quick. Heidi's still getting up to speed on my new diet, and merely eating it takes a lot out of me.

I don't have much homework, so I head straight to bed.

But I don't fall asleep.

 _Bella. Bella. Bella_.

What we're doing, or not doing, isn't innocent. I mean, she has a boyfriend. I guess I have a girlfriend. Isabella Swan should not be the last person on my mind.

But she is.

It also doesn't help that we exchange texts, even as I lie in bed and fight exhaustion.

 **Beaufort: Okay, so, Angela sent me something like 76 messages when she found out we're lab partners. I didn't tell her about it in English, because she might have keeled over and died. Or shaken me to death. So I told her in a text, and OHMYGOD.**

I'm laughing as I reply.

 **Edythe: Only 76?**

 **Beaufort: The leading question being: what does he smell like?**

 **Edythe: Wow!**

 **Beaufort: Did you not believe me when I told you she was in love (otherwise known as obsessed) with you?**

 **Edythe: Oh, I definitely believe you. That's why I'm a little insulted that it was only 76. Hmm.**

We talk for a little while before I bid her goodnight, because I _am_ exhausted. I want to keep talking to her, of course, but I also want sleep. I set my phone aside, roll over and close my eyes.

I'm thinking of Bella as I fall asleep.

And, surprise surprise, she's still right there when I wake up.

If I thought I was going to have an uneventful first week of school, I'm severely mistaken. It doesn't take Emmett long to locate the first group of fresh meat he's going to consistently pick on until they crack. He does it every year, and then moves on to a new group of fresh meat when he gets bored.

This particular one is a group of four, scrawny freshmen boys, of which one is Riley Swan.

I don't know at first because I have to visit the front office to get my extracurricular credits shifted to the swimming I do at Breaking Dawn. I have to do it every year, which is annoying. Shouldn't they just know by now?

But, when I do find out, I'm not sure what to do. I mean, what am I supposed to do?

Which is why today's Biology lesson is tense. Bella must know what's been happening, and I wonder if she's angry with me. _I'm_ angry with me, and I wouldn't blame her if she was as well. I read the fact that she won't even look at me to mean something.

"Bella," I start, before Mr. Banner has called for our attention.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she hisses, and I recoil. She's never used that tone of voice with me before.

"I found out only yesterday," I tell her.

"And?"

Okay. I _could_ have told her, but I didn't. We talked last night, and I agonized over it for ages. "I don't know," I tell her.

"Edward."

"What do you want me to do, Bella?"

She looks at me for the first time, and it's a glare if I've ever seen one. "What do I want _you_ to do?" she asks calmly, and I feel thoroughly chastised. "I don't want you to _do_ anything, Edward. Why on earth would I want _that_?"

I let out a breath and look away from her. Well... _Fuck_. "Bella," I try again.

"Just leave it," she snaps. "I'll take care of it myself."

"Bella?"

She looks at me with the coldest eyes I've ever seen on her. "Wouldn't want you to be anything but a weak coward, now would we?"

For a moment, I'm not sure if I hear her correctly. But, as she turns to look away from me, it hits me. Oh. _Oh_. I've been right all along, haven't I? I _am_ a weak little shit, who can't even stand up to my best friend. I guess I knew it all along.

The rest of the lesson is even more tense. So very tense. She barely looks at me the entire time, and then she practically races from the classroom when the bell rings. What a great year this is turning out to be, and it's barely been a week.

I go through my last two lessons in relative silence, my mind elsewhere. I'm properly ignored in French, which isn't surprising. I mean, we don't _talk_ anyway, but it feels colder today. What am I supposed to do? I don't know. Why won't she just tell me?

I guess Bella decides that she won't _ask_ me to do anything because she meant what she said. She's going to take care of it herself. I don't really know what she's thinking, but she has to know it's a bad idea. If _I_ can't get through to Emmett; what makes her think she can?

Like Rose and Leah, I kind of just watch it all unfold, unsure what to say or do. It happens during lunch, as we're on the way to the dining hall. I think maybe Riley and his friends are avoiding the dining hall to avoid Emmett and Alec, but then I also think Emmett and Alec anticipate it because they go looking for them.

The moment I spot Bella, I look for someone else. _A_ _nyone_ else. That Jasper guy, or the Ben person she sits next to in French class. But she's alone, and she's ready. My heart warms for only a moment before it starts racing from fear. This isn't happening. Why is any of this happening?

Alec starts with his taunting almost immediately, but Bella isn't having any of it. It's almost comical the way she moves to stand in front of the four boys. Two of them are already taller than her, but she looks _fierce_. I'm even shaking.

"Just leave them alone," she says hotly, and I have the urge to tell her to stop. If she pushes too hard, then Emmett and Alec will turn their entire focus on her, and I don't even know what I'm supposed to do then. At this point, freshmen just kind of endure it, and then Emmett and Alec move on. This right here is putting a target on her back. And on Riley's.

"Oh, Isabella," Emmett says, smiling manically. "Coming to protect your little brother, are you?"

Bella's eyes narrow and I just know she's not going to back down. Bully her; maybe bully her friends, sure, but her _family_ is another story. They're off limits.

The entire thing escalates quickly, with Bella and Emmett chucking ugly words at each other until Bella clearly has enough. She stomps her foot and squares up to him, which would have been funny given their height difference if this weren't so serious.

"What is wrong with you?" she hisses. "Does your mother know you're behaving like a bloody hooligan?"

The corridor falls silent, and we all kind of just stare at her. No. No. Bella, no.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" Emmett shoots back, and there's something different in his voice. Something unforgiving; something vulnerable, and Bella definitely notices. Heck, _everyone_ does.

"She doesn't know," I automatically say as I step forward, because we _don't_ talk about Emmett's mother, and Bella would do well to get out of here. Right now. "Bella," I say. "Just take them and go," I tell her.

She looks a little shell-shocked, and I don't blame her.

"Go!" I hiss, and they all jerk into action.

Bella's eyes meet mine for just a moment before she ushers the four freshman boys down the corridor.

I turn to Emmett, who's red in the face from anger, hurt, and the _memories_. Mothers. It's one of the reasons the three of us bonded, after that day I pushed him. Rose forms part of our trio for a similar reason. Mine abandoned me, Emmett's died, and Rose's is too much of a pill-pusher to remember she has a daughter.

Emmett's remained motherless, and I have to remind myself that I haven't. While my father left me to my own devices, _his_ father inserted himself heavily into his life.

I look at Rose, and she looks as concerned as I do.

"She doesn't know," Rose says, echoing my words. "How could she, Emmett? She didn't arrive until freshman year."

His fists are clenched.

I step closer to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

He doesn't jerk away, though he does tense under my fingers. A moment later, he looks at me, his eyes hollow. "She's your Biology partner, Cullen. You better sort that shit out, do you hear me?"

I force myself to nod.

His eyes are saying something else.

Bella's accomplished nothing today. In fact, she might have just made it worse.

Without another word, we head towards the dining hall, but Emmett bypasses the doors, and we end up making an impromptu run to the _McDonald's_ nearest our school. I grab a foot-long Sub from next door.

We don't end up going back to school and, for the first time, I don't feel anxious about it. I don't want to be at school any more than the rest of them. I don't want to see Bella, and I sure as hell don't want to deal with all the texts she's sent me since the altercation in the corridor.

Nobody's really saying anything because we _know_. I wonder what's going through Emmett's mind, and Rose and I keep exchanging worried looks. Emmett wants us to go to the beach, and I reason that it's either that or he's going to want to get drunk. So, we go to the beach.

Despite the circumstances, it's kind of a nice day. I mean, sure, it's windy and wet, but the day feels like something we need.

Half of us head back just before school lets out because I need to get to the pool. I make sure that Rose stays with Emmett and Alec, because he needs at least one of us. I drive Leah and Jared back to school. We're friends, sure, but they're not Rose or Emmett. Then again, they sure as hell aren't Alec either. Jared and I have bonded in homeroom, but Leah's more Rose's friend than mine. I wonder if I should make a conscious effort to change that, but then I'm exhausted enough.

The parking lot is still emptying out when we arrive back at school, and I find a spot easily. I have to go to my locker to pick up my things. Normally, I would ask Bella what I missed in class but, instead, I ask Jessica about Biology, which she is all too eager to tell me, and I ask Laurent about French. Thankfully, I didn't miss much, which is probably because it's still early in the semester.

I'm just glad I don't run into Bella, any of her friends or Riley. I don't know what they think about what happened, and I'm keeping it that way by ignoring the phone in my pocket. I go straight to the Swimming Club, and immediately get started on my land training before even getting into the pool. I work hard for a good three hours before I call it a day and head home. It feels as if I haven't talked to Bella in years but, in reality, it's only been two days.

Two _long_ days.

After I've showered and eaten, I start on my homework. Really, anything to avoid dealing with the aftermath of today's confrontation. I want nothing more than to go back to a time when none of this was happening; when it was just Bella and me trying to figure things out. Life's a lot more complicated when other people are involved.

I'm tempted to let my phone die, but I kind of need my alarm in the morning. Which kind of takes me down this black hole of realization.

 **Beaufort: Okay. What was that?**

 **Beaufort: Edythe?**

 **Beaufort: What happened today?**

 **Beaufort: Edythe?**

 **Beaufort: Edythe?**

The longest wait, before she breaks the rules.

 **Beaufort: Edward?**

I close my eyes for the longest time, before I start to type a reply.

 **Edythe: What does it matter? We're all just bloody hooligans, aren't we? Weak cowards?**

I take a deep breath and read my message again. Okay, that's just childish, Cullen.

 **Edythe: Emmett's mother passed away the summer before we met. It's something we don't talk about. I don't know what happens now.**

 **Edythe: I'm sorry.**

I set my phone aside, and try to sleep. I'm not terribly successful, but I still manage a few hours before I have to be awake for training. It's just another day I have to get through because I really have no idea what I'm doing.

I manage to ignore it all - and Bella - until Bella's birthday. It's a Monday, and we spent the entire weekend _not_ talking. It was torture. Like, _utter torture_. I don't know what she wants from me. I need her to tell me because I'm not smart enough to figure it out on my own. Doesn't she know by now that the male half of our species needs _help_?

The day itself starts out slowly. My fingers twitch with my desire to text Bella, but I don't know what to say. _Happy birthday, I'm sorry my best friend bullies your little brother._ Sure, that'll go down well.

I guess she doesn't want me to be _sorry_.

It's at lunch that things, I guess, get heated. I don't really know what's happening until it's happening, because I've got a meeting with my nutritionist straight after school, and I'm probably going to be late. Madame Pince _can_ ramble, particularly when you get her talking about French food. Ever want to waste time in class; just bring up the origins of the baguette, and you're set.

Which is why I miss the beginning of what I can only call a bad imitation of a really terrible teen movie. The corridor is empty, save for the six of us, and two boys.

 _Two boys_ ; one-half of Emmett's group of fresh meat.

One of those boys is Riley Swan.

Rose and Leah are standing to my right, looking _bored_. I guess this is taking time out of their lunch or something like that. It's kind of been a rough week, I guess, because Emmett's not really saying much.

Emmett, Alec and Jared are standing around Riley and his redheaded friend, practically caging them in against a set of lockers, and both my head and heart hurt. I feel helpless as I stand there, knowing that shoves, taunts and punches are probably going to follow. I don't want to see this.

Nobody should.

The taunts increase, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I picture Bella, sitting in the dining hall, anxiously watching the door for her brother to arrive, but he's here. In front of me. About to be -

Be what?

I think about Peter, and about Liam, and what it would feel like to have either of my little brothers in this position. Also, Riley is looking at me with eyes that match his sister's, and I feel something snap inside of me. I don't know what I'm doing or what is happening right now, but I step forward anyway.

"Stop," I say, and Emmett turns to look at me.

"What did you say?" he asks, and I feel the heat rising up my neck.

Oh... _Fuck it_.

"I said 'Stop,'" I say, frowning. "Just leave them alone."

Emmett turns to look at me. "Edward?"

"Seriously," I say. "Can't you see that they get the fucking message? Don't look at you, fine! Okay? They get it. Now can we please go get some lunch - I'm starving!"

Emmett's left eye twitches, and I know he knows what I'm doing. We stare at each other for the longest time, before Rose clears her throat, and we all look at her.

"I'm starving too, you know?" she says, and I hold back my sigh of relief.

This moment won't be forgotten. Of that, I'm absolutely sure.

"Fine," Emmett says, shrugging. "I'm bored anyway."

Alec looks like he wants to argue, but Emmett raises a hand to quiet him.

"Let's go," Emmett says. "Didn't you hear? The lady wants food, and these two are pretty boring anyway." His eyes meet mine. "We've got a whole year of fresh meat to get through anyway."

I grit my teeth.

Emmett looks at Rose. "Shall we?"

Rose throws me a look as she starts walking, and I hang back until everyone is on their way. I hang my head as I walk past Riley and his friend.

"Don't tell anyone," I whisper, but I know Riley hears me. I also know that he knows I'm not referring to 'anyone,' but really just to Bella. She's not to know about this, but I wouldn't be able to explain my reasoning.

I don't _want_ to go to the dining hall, but I don't have much of a choice. I keep my pace slow as I walk, trying to come up with some reason why I suddenly _care_. Emmett saw right through me, and I wonder if he's going to bring it up in front of everyone.

In the end, I don't have to worry about Emmett. Why should I when there's Alec?

"What the fuck was that about, Cullen?" he asks, as soon as I sit down with my tray. I forced myself to pile it up, even though I'm not hungry. I'm pretending to be 'starving' after all. "Who do you think you are?"

I don't even look at him.

"Cullen?"

I take a deep breath before I raise my head and look at him. "What is it, Marcus?"

He glares at me. "What, huh? Finally decided to grow a fucking backbone?"

I glare straight back. "Finally decided to pick on someone your own size?" I throw back.

He blinks. It's lost on nobody that I'm _bigger_ than him. I'm a swimmer, and he plays golf. To this day, I still can't see it as a _sport_. The guy doesn't even _train_.

"Save me the bull, Alec," I say, my eyes holding his. "You have a problem with _me,_ and we both know it, so why don't you cut the crap and just say whatever it is you want to say."

Alec opens his mouth, but it's Emmett who speaks up, his eyes on me. "What's gotten into you?" he asks.

I look at him for the longest time. "Aren't you _tired_?" I ask.

He waits a moment. "All the time."

We just stare at each other for another long moment before he returns to his food, and I start on mine. Nothing more is said about the incident as lunch continues. Alec looks like he swallowed a bitter pill, and I'm trying not to find it funny. I doubt this is all over, but I like to think it's halted for a while. Temporarily set aside.

"Hey, Bitch," Rose whispers, and I lean in to hear her. "Are you okay?"

I shrug. "Yeah, why?"

"You're not eating."

I let out a puff of breath before I pop a French fry into my mouth. "I totally am," I say.

She rolls her eyes at my antics. "So, anyway, I've taken your advice."

"Oh?"

"I'm going on a date," she says, and I glance at Emmett. Jesus Christ, he's going to kill me if she tells him it was _my_ suggestion. "With Royce."

My eyes widen. "Good God, Rose!" I practically shriek, drawing attention to us. I smile nervously, warding off their attention and drop the volume of my voice. "Emmett's going to kill us _both_."

She lets out a laugh. "I don't know what the big deal is," she says, even though she knows. "He's totally hot."

I shake my head. "Rose, please," I say. "Royce and Emmett _hate_ each other. Are you planning on starting a war?"

"Are you?"

I swallow audibly.

"And no, Edward, I'm not," she says, her voice steady. I think she's practicing with me because she's going to have to defend her decision with Emmett when it comes down to it. There are just things you don't do, and one of those is date your best friend's enemy. She's in for it, and I'm guiltily a little happy that she'll probably take the attention off me. "I'm going on a date with someone who had the balls to actually ask me out, instead of keeping me on some pedestal for when he decides to take me down."

I take a deep, slow breath. "Okay," I concede, and she looks surprised. Heck, _I'm_ surprised. Maybe if I give her a pass here, she'll give me a pass when this whole thing _does_ blow up with Bella. Provided we're still friends after all of this.

Is this it?

"Okay?"

I nod. "Just, you know, be careful," I say. "Royce is - " I stop. We _know_ what Royce is. "Just, be careful, okay?"

It's her turn to nod. "I know what I'm doing," she says, but I don't think she does.

I sigh heavily before I force myself to eat some more. I really don't need this kind of stress in my life. I get that I'm in high school, and it's all expected, but I have worries beyond this everyday drama. I have plans for the future that started years ago, and they require every part of me. _This_ is unnecessary.

Bella isn't in Biology. It's not like her to skip class, even if it's her birthday. I hate that I'm a little relieved, but then I was kind of looking forward to giving her the present on which I spent a considerable amount of my allowance.

I don't want to think that this is it for our friendship. But maybe it's a good thing... we're standing at the edge of a cliff.

Straight after school, I make my way to Breaking Dawn. I admit I miss conversations with Felix now that I drive myself. He was kind of my go-to guy, you know? Helped me make decisions; _listened_ to me. He's the man to know what to do about Bella.

I get through my weight session without disaster, my body aching in places I didn't even know it could. Kevin set up a strength and conditioning program for me that I'm still getting used to. This new regimen - well, it _hurts_. It's almost a relief to get into the pool, but then I actually have to _swim_ , and, just, ouch. I get through my warm-up just fine and try my best not to seize up during my timed kick stroke.

My goodness, does it hurt.

It's quite late when I finish up, prolonging my post-practice static stretching. By the time I get home, it's already seven thirty. I eat immediately, because I'm starving. Heidi tells me that my father is at work, and Esme and the twins are at an event at the twins' school.

"Just you and me, then?" I ask.

"I'm here until nine," she says. "So, if you want something else, you have an hour to decide."

I just grin at her, before I head up to my room to shower, running the hot water over my tense muscles. My biceps hurt, my abdominal muscles ache, and my back burns. Once I'm out, I throw on some sweatpants and head back downstairs. Heidi's still in the kitchen, and I pop my head in.

"Please, can I have a snack?" I ask.

"After _all_ of that, you're still hungry?"

I nod.

She smiles. "What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

"Give me five minutes."

I throw her a grin, and then head to the TV lounge. I drop down onto the couch, grab for the remote and turn on the TV. I flick through the channels, but I doubt I'm going to find anything worth watching. I don't even watch TV.

I give up pretty easily and turn off the TV. I sit there for a minute, trying not to think about what's happening with Bella. I should keep busy. I stand up and head to the kitchen, where I sit at the breakfast nook and wait.

"Here you go," Heidi says, setting two slices of toast in front of me. "Eat up."

I rub my face with my hand. "But I don't _want_ toast," I whine.

She looks at me for a long moment, trying to read my face. "Pancakes then?"

"Oh, yes, please." I grin at her. "You just get me... on the second try."

"Sue me," she teases.

"In a couple of years; I might just be able to," I say relatively easily, and her eyes snap towards me. It's the first time I've really given voice to what I might want in the future - besides Olympic Gold, of course - and she looks a little surprised.

"It'll take a while," she says, clearly sidestepping my admission.

"That's okay," I tell her; "I have toast."

She shakes her head, as I slide onto a stool and lift a slice of buttered toast to my mouth.

"Is this just honey?"

She nods.

"I always get scared of pissing you off, just now you drop some peanuts into my food," I tell her, and she laughs out loud.

"As long as you know."

I shake my head as I move to take a bite. I'm irritated by the sound of the doorbell, and I groan, my eyes flying to Heidi.

She shrugs. "I'm making pancakes here."

I groan again because I _just_ sat down, and now I have to get up again. My body still aches, but I stand anyway and take my slice of toast with me. I make my way, barefoot and shirtless, to the front door, absently wondering if I shouldn't answer it dressed as I am, but I suddenly don't care.

I pull open the door, and I'm surprised to find Bella standing there, looking sheepish and a little wet from the rain. I don't mean to, but I end up frowning at the sight of her. What is she doing here? And why?

"Hi," she says.

I swallow, my heart stuttering. "Hi back."

For a moment, she says nothing, and then she launches herself at me, throwing her arms around me. Just the force of her knocks me off balance, and I step back, trying to accommodate her without dropping my toast.

"Bella," I say.

She squeezes me tight for a moment before she lets go.

I don't miss the way she eyes my bare chest. "What are you doing here?" I ask.

Her eyes meet mine. "It's my birthday, Edward."

"I know."

"And I hate that we're fighting."

"Me too."

"Riley also told me what happened today."

"That little shit," I say, and she grins at me.

"I tickled it out of him."

"Relentless woman."

She stares at me, and I stare back. This is a mutual apology without the words, and it seems to relieve the tension that's wracked my body since that first non-fight in Biology what feels like a hundred years ago.

"Do you want to come inside?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I can't," she says. "Uh, Jake is coming over."

My heart drops.

Maybe she sees it on my face because she quickly checks the time on her phone, takes a moment, and then looks at me. "Okay, so maybe I can spend a few minutes."

It's almost sad how my face splits into a grin. "Do come on in, birthday girl."

She steps further into the house and makes her way to the kitchen. I watch as she greets Heidi, grabs a bottle of water and then heads right on up to my bedroom.

I follow.

My toast and pancakes can wait.

Once we're in my room, I slip on a t-shirt before it gets weird. Bella stands awkwardly while I do, and then I get another hug. It's a long one, clearly telling me that these past few days have been the pits for her as well. She squeezes me once, releases me, and then moves to sprawl out on my bed and pat the space next to her. I move to lie beside her, and she rolls over to look at me.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"For what?"

"For calling you weak."

"But you're right."

"No, I'm not," she says. "I'm so far from right, and I am so sorry, Edward. I should never have said that. I was just so mad, and helpless, and he's my little brother, and I hate that someone was hurting him."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Please don't," she says. "Just - _I'm_ sorry. Please, can we never go through that again? I - I missed you."

"I was always right here, Bella."

Her eyes meet mine.

We've been here before.

She clears her throat. "So," she says.

"Hmm?"

"I'm having a birthday dinner, I believe, on Saturday, and I really want you to be there."

I hesitate. "Bella?"

"I've thought about it," she says steadily. "You're my official lab partner now; so it wouldn't be weird."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I want you to be there, Edward."

She's stolen my heart; I swear she has. "And I want to be there, Bella, believe me," I say; "but I don't think it's a good idea. I don't want the night to be about anything other than you, and I'm worried that if I'm there; that won't happen."

"Because you're Edward Cullen?"

I swallow.

"Do you ever think that we hold off on all of this because of our dads?"

I blink. "I don't know what you mean."

"It's no secret what's really going on, right?"

"I don't know - "

"Edward."

"I don't know anything about the firm, Bella, and I very rarely ask."

She raises her eyebrows. "But you do know _something_ , don't you?"

"He's working hard. They both are. Something's happening, I guess."

"Something like what?"

I look away. "Bella?"

"Wait," she says. "Are you trying to tell me that my dad's getting promoted without actually _telling_ me?"

My eyes widen. "Umm, I don't know. I'm just the boss' son - please don't quote me. I just hear things sometimes, and I think Esme's been trying to get him to cut down."

She regards me for a moment before she asks a question that surprises me. "Why do you still call her Esme?" she asks.

Oh. We're going to talk about this then.

"I mean, I know she's not your biological mother," she continues; "but it's always seemed as if you're - "

"I'm what?"

Her eyes meet mine. "Hesitant." She waits a beat. "Scared. As if you're just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

For a moment, I flush with irritation. I don't really want to talk about this today, or at all. How did we even get to this topic?

"Edward?" she questions.

I sigh heavily. "I guess it's because I _knew_ my mother," I tell her. "I knew her. I saw her. I remember her." I drop my gaze. "I _had_ a mother, Bella, and she left me. I never wanted another one. I still don't. Esme _isn't_ my mother. She's my _step_ mother, and I'm not going to kid myself into thinking that she's going to stick around for me when my own flesh and blood didn't." I realize I sound bitter, but I can't help it.

All that counseling and I'm still here. It doesn't matter what people say or do, the truth of what happened all those years ago will never change.

And, I guess, neither will I.


	9. How Can I Blame You

**Chapter Nine: How Can I Blame You  
**

 **BPOV**

I watch as a certain sadness fall over his face, and all I want to do is take him in my arms and never let him go. I want to protect him from the hurt of his past, the doubt of his present, and the uncertainty of his future. That woman really did a number on him, and she doesn't even know it. She probably doesn't even care. She _couldn't_ , because she's not here.

I resist touching him by tucking my hands between my thighs, giving the impression that I'm warming them up.

He _looks_.

"Are you _scared_ Esme will leave as well?" I ask, bringing his attention back to my face.

His eyes meet mine, and there's a severity in his gaze that makes me feel cold right to my bones. "She's not mine to keep, Bella," he says calmly. "She's never been mine."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"What else can I believe?" he asks. "Think about it. I already said it. If my own mother, my own flesh and blood could leave me; what makes you think Esme would be any different?"

"She's different because she's here," I tell him. "Every day, she's here, Edward. With you. With your family. It's a choice she makes every single day. She loves you, and she would be insane to leave you."

"Like my actual mother?" he questions.

"Yes," I say without hesitation. "You are great. You are amazing, and it's her loss that she's missing out on getting to know how wonderful you are."

He just stares at me, as if I've spoken a foreign language that he doesn't understand. He's _so_ damaged by her actions; he can't even believe he's deserving of the love Esme gives him.

"Edward," I press.

He sighs heavily. "I think she sees me," he says. "Out there in the world, swimming, breaking records. I think, sometimes, I _want_ her to see me, to show her I can do good all by myself; to show her I don't need her. I've never needed her."

He looks so broken, so defeated, and I don't know what to say or do.

"I'm doing fine," he whispers. "Right? I'm okay?"

I nod. "Of course, Edward. You're doing amazing. I know I would be sorry if I didn't know you the way I do."

He doesn't say anything.

"And, for what it's worth, I think you're better off anyway."

This time, he nods in agreement. "She was a free-spirit, apparently. She never really wanted the married life with a kid, but she fell in love with my father, and that's what he wanted. When she got pregnant, they moved to Vancouver, to work in that branch of the firm. She lasted four years, Bella. Four years with me, and she just couldn't do it. She decided she didn't want us, and she took off to live her dream."

I blink. "Is that why you taught yourself how to play the guitar?"

"Hmm?"

"The guitar?"

He laughs. "My father doesn't actually know I play, you know? He knows I _have_ it, but not that I _can_ play. I think he'd have a fit if ever I expressed interest in music. It's probably why he's accepted the swimming the way he has. It's less likely to take me away from him the way music took her away from us."

"Is it something he worries about?"

"Wouldn't you?"

There are a lot of things I worry about... though; abandonment hasn't been one of them. Yes, I'm scared my parents' marriage is going to implode. I'm terrified my brothers will resent me for this move to Seattle. I worry about Angela finding her way in this crazy world, and I worry about Alice's happy-go-lucky nature getting beat out of her by the harshness of life. I worry Jasper will lose his boyish charm with age, and I worry Ben's going to let the trials of the world stop him from going after what he wants.

But, most of all, I worry about this boy before me, who carries the burden of abandonment on his shoulders and wears his precious heart on his sleeve.

"She's not even that successful," I sort of say, and his eyes snap towards me.

"What?"

"Umm..." I scramble for words. "So, I might have looked her up."

"Oh?"

"I'm sorry," I say. "Did I overstep? I was just curious, and I wanted to know who she was and see if she was - "

"Was what?" he questions. " _Happy_?"

I sigh. "Yeah."

"Is she?"

"I don't see how she could be when she left you behind."

He smiles at me, his hand reaching for one of mine. He tugs it free from its trap between my thighs, and pulls it to rest against his chest. We haven't been this _intimate_ since before that fateful day at Breaking Dawn, and it doesn't feel as weird as it used to. I can't be sure if I'm relieved or not.

We just look at each other for the longest time, before my phone starts to ring. I can't help the groan I let out as I fish for it in the pocket of my hoodie.

It's Jake.

"I should go," I say, silencing the phone. I am _not_ going to answer a call from my boyfriend in front of Edward. We could both go our entire lives without that ever happening. The fact that Jake is calling at all is making me feel awkward.

"I don't want you to," he whines.

"Edward," I say, and I feel his fingers feather-light on my forearm. They are cool and distracting. "I have to go now."

He sighs heavily, accepting my stance even though he clearly doesn't want to. "How are you getting home?"

"The same way I got here."

"And that was how exactly?"

I must look guilty because his eyes widen almost comically.

"Bella?" Silence. "Bella Swan." Still, nothing. "Did you _drive_?"

I bristle slightly. Why does he have to ask the question like that? "I _can_ drive."

"But you don't have your license," he points out.

"I'm getting it tomorrow."

He shakes his head in mild disbelief. "What am I ever going to do with you? I mean, does your mother know you're here?"

I can't even look at him.

"Oh, Bella."

I just laugh as I roll onto my back and sit up. His bed is so comfortable, and it's even more inviting because he's right next to me, looking slightly rumpled, with his hair untidy and his smile easy.

Right now, I kind of want to kiss him.

Hmm.

Okay. Time to go home.

I stand up and remind myself my boyfriend is waiting for me. My boyfriend, who is not Edward Cullen. Who, incidentally, is a boy who has his own girlfriend.

Edward makes a show of rising to his feet, groaning as he does. His t-shirt rides up, and I have to force myself to look away. "I have to ask," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Did you skip school _on purpose_?"

I blush again. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say. Then, after he just stares at me pointedly for the longest time, I add, "It was Alice's idea. I had no choice in the matter."

"Oh, sure," he says, looking deathly amused. "No choice at all."

I just shake my head, fighting off a blush.

"Well, while you're here," he says, practically hopping around his bed and retrieving something from a drawer in his desk. "I wasn't sure when I was going to give it to you, so I'm doubly glad you came by, even if you did do it illegally."

Ignoring his comment, I just watch as he moves towards me and holds out a small box.

"Happy birthday, Isabella," he says with a smile.

I blink, because it's the first time he's ever called me Isabella, and the memories I expect to be hit with just don't come. I struggled through Emmett calling me by my full name, and hit back with something I didn't know _was_ insensitive, but hearing my full name out of Edward's mouth is almost therapeutic. As if it's helping me prepare for when others are, undoubtedly, going to say it.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, suddenly looking unsure.

I quickly shake my head, ridding myself of my thoughts. "No, Edward."

He gives me a curious look, but he decides not to push. "I _was_ going to get you a matching _Speedo_ , but I couldn't find one," he teases. "So, I got this instead." He presses the little box into my hand and waits. Then: "Bella, are you going to open it?"

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

I stare at him.

He steps towards me. "Why do I get the sense I've done something wrong?"

"You haven't," I tell him. "I just - " I stop and look down at the little box in my hand. "This is for me?"

He nods. "Open it. I think you'll like it."

As soon as I move to open the box, his cool fingers close over mine, making me stop.

"Okay, just, quickly, before you open it," he rushes. "I need to explain something first."

I meet his gaze.

"It's a _gift_ , Bella, so you're just going to have to accept it," he tells me, and I frown in confusion. "I mean, you don't even have to wear it if you don't want to, but I saw it online, and I thought of you, so I had to order it."

I still don't understand, but he offers me nothing more as explanation. When his fingers finally release mine, I open the box and I finally understand. "Oh."

He grins at me. "Do you like it?"

I nod automatically, my fingers reaching in to retrieve the petite pendant. A smile spreads across my face as I pull it out, the chain coming along. I think it's silver until I realize it's actually white gold, and my mouth drops open. "Edward?"

"Do you like it?" he presses.

"It's Nemo," I say. "This is Nemo."

"It is," he says, nodding. "Do you like it?" he asks again, worry in his tone. "Bella, don't you like it?"

"I love it," I tell him. "Edward, jeez, this is too much. I can't - "

"It's barely enough," he says, cutting me off.

"Edward?"

"Just to make you think of me," he says smugly, as if I don't already think about him enough. "Like I said, you don't have to wear it; I just - "

"No," I automatically say; "I want to." I take a breath. "Will you put it on for me?"

His eyes widen slightly, but he quickly takes the necklace from me, his fingers working the clasp.

I turn around and lift my hair out of the way. I wait. And wait. I glance over my shoulder at him. "Edward?"

He clears his throat. "Uh, right, sorry," he says, as his hands move around my neck, and he clasps the necklace, his fingers brushing against my skin.

I shiver, despite myself, as I release my hair and turn back to look at him. His face is flushed, and I'm left to wonder why. I give him the tightest hug because I don't know what to say without possibly bursting into tears. When I release him, he's still blushing right to the roots of his hair. My fingers move to touch the pendant that hangs at a level just above the valley of my breasts.

Edward _looks_ again, which doesn't help with the red in his face.

"Thank you," I say, and his eyes snap back up to meet mine. "I really do love it, Nemo."

He smiles widely. "I'm glad."

We look at each other for a long moment before my phone rings again. I don't have to look to know it's Jake, and I _have_ to go now.

Edward walks me out, and we spend an alarming amount of time putting off my departure. He holds my hand as we walk, his fingers always cooler than mine. I think his body temperature is naturally just cooler than normal. It can't be healthy.

"I do want you to come to dinner," I tell him again.

He laughs lightly, his back leaning against the door frame in the open doorway. "Bella," he says, and the word sounds different - almost as if it hurts to say it. "I think I've raised enough suspicion today."

I blink. "Oh."

He runs a hand through his hair, which is still drying. "And, I mean, who's to say your dinner is even happening this weekend?" he points out. "I expect a written invitation, by the way."

* * *

Edward ends up hitting the nail on the head because Alice's _planning_ takes longer than either of us anticipated. I mean, I thought it would take a while, but it's borderline ridiculous how long it takes us all to get it together enough to have a sit-down.

Jasper has an away game.

Angela has to go on a church retreat with her family.

It's already the first Saturday of October by the time all our schedules finally align, and it's almost a relief to distract ourselves from the endlessness that is school. Juggling it all has been difficult, and we _need_ a night out.

It's barely been a month since school started and I'm already so tired of tests and assignments. I'm ready to pull out my own hair. My parents aren't _that_ sympathetic. Their 'when I was a student' stories really don't help me. And, I don't want to hear about a time when people didn't use calculators. I can't even imagine life without my fancy silver _Casio_. Trigonometry without a calculator? I'm sure I'd cry every day.

Not that I don't already do that now. I just want to sleep.

What _is_ great is that the great big world didn't burn to the ground when news spread about Edward and me being Biology partners. When we finally started talking again, he told me Rose made a whole show of being replaced, but he reminded her that _she_ was the one who abandoned him. His eyes grew dark as he said the words to me, and I suspected he was thinking about his mother.

I quickly brought him back.

So, seeing as this dinner has been postponed so many times, it makes sense now for Edward to be invited. I have half a mind to thank my lucky stars that the postponements actually happened. It's been almost a month, and I reason it should be enough time for my lab partner to be extended an invitation. In fact, Alice ended up insisting, and Angela _begged_ ; even dropped down to her knees and everything as if she were in prayer.

I feign relative disinterest and question it appropriately, but I waste no time texting Edward the news once it's all agreed. Of course, once again, he demands it in writing, and I mention to Alice that it would be cool if there were _actual_ invitations.

Alice goes crazy with excitement, as expected, and she spends an obscene amount of time planning and making them. She's torturous with her questions of what I like and don't like, until I remind her that she has all the power. Her squeal is frightening. Heaven help us all.

Edward grins like a madman when I hand him the invitation at the breakfast nook in his kitchen on the Thursday evening before the dinner. He puts on an entire act of phony acceptance until I take the invitation back from him and open it, much to his annoyance.

"Alice spent extra time on yours," I tell him, wiping the glitter off my fingers as I pull the card out of the black envelope. "At Angela's insistence, of course. She's literally pissing herself at the idea of sitting at the same dinner table as you."

He takes the card from me, holding the corners, so as not get glitter on _himself_. I watch him carefully as he reads, a steady smile spreading across his face. "I have to wear a hat?" he asks.

"She's going for a _Mad Hatter's_ theme, without the actual tea party part," I inform him, shrugging slightly. "All you have to do is wear a hat."

"A specific type of hat?"

I meet his gaze. "Surprise me."

His eyes darken for a moment, before he clears his throat. "So, is there a seating plan, and how close to you am I sitting?"

I smile. "Well, if you must know, you're sitting right across from me," I tell him. "Angela is sitting next to me, so you'll have an entire table between the two of you."

He looks at me, and I don't quite recognize the look on his face. "I get to look at you all night?"

I nod.

He says nothing more about it.

Heidi then enters the kitchen, and Edward and I quickly decorate our pizzas and get them ready for the oven. They're going in after Peter and Liam's are done because they have to eat and go to bed much earlier than we do.

When Esme found out I was coming over, she called Edward's father; and they scheduled an impromptu date night. Esme even joked that she would love it if we made it a weekly thing to allow them a reprieve.

"Shall we?" he says, standing.

I nod, and he leads the way up to his bedroom. It's the first time since before and after my birthday that I've been at his house on a weekday during the school year, but we have a write-up to do for Biology, and it's doubtful we'll have time over the weekend. Apparently, we're celebrating.

Edward heads straight to his desk and powers up his computer. "Have you started?" he asks as he flops down into his chair. He brought in a chair from downstairs for me, and I move to sit on the right-hand side of his desk, where he's cleared some space for me to work.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" I ask.

He grins at me. "I don't know, but _that_ definitely is."

I shake my head. He seems so relaxed, sitting there, looking at me with an easy smile on his face. I'm not sure what it's all to do with, and I think it's better that I don't know the reason. I don't think I could handle knowing he's this content because of Kate.

I refuse to think about what that means.

"Okay," I say, clearing my throat; "so, we just break it up, work, and then compile?"

"I thought you liked to do things separately?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug. "I know you're not a leech, like Mike," I tell him. "You'll actually _work_."

He just nods. "All right then. Let's get to it."

This is our first write-up as lab partners, and I don't really know what to expect. I tend to put a lot of effort into my write-ups, but even I don't start them the day after the practical. It's almost _too_ diligent for me. I try to be a normal student from time to time.

But then I kind of also just want to spend time with him. We've settled after the whole Emmett/Riley thing, and my brother's now being left alone, but it's still something we haven't really spoken about properly. I know we should, but I kind of like this.

This avoidance.

It's easier.

I think he expects me to take control, so I do. I break it up into the required headings and then ask him which sections he wants. He takes the latter half, which, generally, is the most complicated and I let out a sigh of relief. I take out my own laptop, get settled, and we get to work.

I catch him looking at me from time to time and we exchange small smiles. I try not to blush, but I don't think I'm successful. I don't know how long we work, but Edward's the one who brings us to a stop.

He lets out a long breath. "Are we done?" he asks.

" _I_ am not," I tell him. "Are you?"

He huffs. "Before I answer that, how many different ways do you think you can say: 'The results do not make sense,' because I think I've exhausted them all?"

I laugh. "Edward, what have you been writing this whole time?"

He frowns for a moment before he turns his right screen for me to see. It's almost comical how much he _has_ written, and I'm almost irritated with him, given that I've barely written as much as he has. He's pretty much done with the Results, Conclusion, _and_ Discussion.

"What the hell is that?" I ask.

His eyes widen in confusion. "Umm, it's what you told me to do."

I sigh.

"What? What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "I think I need to take a break," I tell him, slightly irritated. Really, I have barely two paragraphs of the Introduction and almost seven sentences for the Method.

"By all means, Bella; take a break," he says, smiling warmly at me. "I'm going to go check on the pizza, and make sure the boys have eaten."

I watch him stand up and stretch, my eyes catching sight of some skin as his t-shirt rises. I look away immediately, flushing slightly. As he walks past, he brushes my shoulder with his hand, and I feel it in my bones. Oh, boy.

Once he's gone, I take a moment to gather myself. I can't tell if he's the one who's acting weird, or if it's me. Is it both of us? Why today of all days?

He's back before I can even break down whatever is or isn't happening, and he has our pizzas and two bottles of _Gatorade_ with him. I made the mistake of revealing to him that the drink is growing on me, and trust him to have an endless supply.

If _Gatorade_ was smart, they would endorse him now. The boy is bound to blow up at some point, and they'd be wise to get in early. I just watch as he sets up a little picnic for us on the carpet at the foot of his bed. He can be stupidly adorable when he's trying to be cute.

"M'lady," he says, gesturing with his arm. "Your dinner awaits."

I can't help my giggle as I slide off my seat and sit cross-legged opposite him. "Did you finish your protein supplements?" I ask, watching him carefully.

He shrugs, as he starts on his pizza.

"Edward.".

He bites into his first slice and grins at me as he does. "I'm eating pepperoni, Bella," he says, as he chews. "I'm pretty sure that counts as protein."

"You're an idiot."

Again with that grin.

We eat in silence for a little while, and the comfort of it is overwhelming. When he opens his bottle of _Gatorade_ , he opens mine as well. It's such a simple thing, but it just confuses me. I guess I'm distracted or something, because I don't notice until his hand has already reached for mine.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching him watch me.

His fingers are cool as he entwines them with mine. "Bella, is something wrong?"

"No, why?"

He frowns. "I don't know; you just seem distracted. Elsewhere."

I fiddle with the pendant of my necklace with my free hand, as I've now started to do. Trust him to pick up on it. Frankly, I don't actually know what's wrong with me, so I don't know what to tell him.

"Bella?"

I clear my throat. "I guess I'm just worried," I confess, and it sounds like the truth.

"What about?" he asks.

I can feel the pad of his thumb on the back of my hand for a moment before he releases it, so I can try to explain this feeling I can't quite understand. It's familiar, but it's also not. "Do you ever get the feeling that something is coming?" I ask. "Like, no matter what anyone says or does, or how much you do or do not know; it's going to happen anyway?"

He frowns for a moment. "Do you have a _bad_ feeling or something like that?" he asks.

I nod.

He looks as if he's trying to understand, and I appreciate that because _I_ don't even understand. "Have you ever had a _bad_ feeling before?" he asks.

Again, I nod.

He takes a breath. "In Ohio?"

This time, I look away.

"Bella?"

"It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he says. "You're entitled to feel what you feel, even if it doesn't make sense right now."

"I _never_ want it to make sense," I tell him.

"Understandable."

I meet his gaze for a moment before I return to my dinner. He does too, and we're just able to ignore _it_. Once he's done, he downs his protein supplements to meet his calorie intake. Sometimes, I worry about him because he doesn't _always_ keep up with his nutrition. He'd start losing weight if he exercised more than he ate. He'd wear himself out.

While I return to my write-up, Edward cleans up and then checks on the boys. It amazes me how quiet they actually are, particularly compared to my crazy brothers. Maybe the house is so big; I can't hear them.

Edward has two bowls of ice cream when he gets back, which we eat at his desk. He eats his ice cream slowly, swirling it around, and he fiddles with his computer as it melts. He's apparently one of those who likes to wait it out.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"What's your name on _Facebook_?"

My eyes widen. "What?"

" _Facebook_ , Bella," he says. "I just searched, and I can't seem to find you."

I blink rapidly. "Uh, I don't have _Facebook_ ," I tell him.

"You don't?"

I clear my throat. "I mean, I _did_ , but then I deleted it after..." I trail off. Dammit. "Uh, after Ohio."

He just nods.

It still amazes me that he's never actually _asked_ me to tell him. Jake begged for ages until I decided I had to before I agreed to date him. I still don't know why I haven't told Edward yet. Am I worried things will change? Am I worried they won't? Part of my reasoning for telling Jake all about it was to see him turn and go, but he surprised me. I'm not ready for the possibility of Edward turning and going as well.

He takes a breath, smiles at me, and then we return to our work. I reckon this is the first time I'll finish my write-up before the weekend. It's not complete by any means because we'll have to do extensive editing, but I'm confident we can get it done before Monday's deadline.

I leave myself twenty minutes to pack up and get home before my curfew. Edward pretends to put up a fight, as he does most times I have to leave. He walks me out, as usual, and we're standing at my car when his father and Esme get back. They took a driver, so they're both a little tipsy, which Edward and I find hilarious.

Just from the little interaction, it's clear to see they are still stupidly in love with each other. I can't help feeling a little jealous. I can't even remember the last time my parents looked that happy, and I can't stop myself from thinking it's all my fault. There haven't been smiles like that since before the move to Seattle. Maybe even before.

Before Dominic.

"You two have a good night?" Esme asks, her arm around her husband's waist.

I nod.

Edward grins. "Clearly not as good as you two."

I glance at my watch. If I don't leave now, I'll be in deep shit. Edward notices, and he initiates the goodbye again. His parents head inside, and then his attention is fully on me, his eyes caring and concerned.

"I don't want you to worry," he says. "That _bad_ feeling, Bella; I'm sure it's nothing."

I'm inclined to believe him but, as I drive away, I know I won't. Something's coming, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

* * *

When Saturday arrives, I wake up to a long text from Alice, making sure I do exactly as instructed. She came by last night and helped me pick out two outfits, and I picked the third outfit of sweatpants and one of Jake's hoodies. She wasn't amused.

I spend most of the day going over my Biology write-up and conjugating an endless number of verbs for French. When it's time to get ready, I head to the shower first, and spend almost half an hour deciding on which outfit to wear. Alice is going to kill me if I choose wrong.

Eventually, I flip a coin and just go with it.

My makeup takes over half an hour.

I've just popped in my large loop earrings when I hear my phone buzz on my chest of drawers. I think it's probably Alice asking if I've already left, but it's actually Edward.

 **Edythe: Hi, birthday girl :) I'm running late... Kevin kept me late after training (endless swimming spiel) and then Jane had me read over her Salinger paper. The things I do for the girls in my life.**

 **Edythe: These aren't excuses, believe me. I'm definitely coming! I'm headed home for a shower and the first half of my dinner. Don't want to scare Angela away with my eating habits. I hope you're behaving!**

Okay. My heart is beating so fast. Edward and Jake are going to be in the same place at the same time. I'm more worried about that than my dad and Jake actually meeting for the first time.

That can't be normal.

I turn to the sound of a knock at my door and spy my mom standing in the doorway. She's smiling warmly at me.

"Hi, Mom," I say.

"Riley's waiting for you downstairs," she informs me, her smile widening slightly.

"I'm almost ready," I tell her.

She steps into my room and walks towards me. "I can't believe my baby girl is turning sixteen years old."

"Mom, I turned sixteen like three weeks ago."

She says nothing, but her eyes do soften. In fact, they get almost teary.

I don't know why I suddenly feel unsettled. "Is something wrong?"

She looks at me for a long time, her fingers moving to touch a lock of my hair. "You really are very beautiful, Bella," she says solemnly.

I just stare at her.

"My baby girl is growing into such a beautiful young woman."

"Mom," I say, embarrassed.

"I'm just saying, Sweetheart."

I sigh. "Well, thank you."

There's something oddly melancholy about her, and it's worrying me. "You and Dad are still coming tonight, right?" I check.

She smiles at me, and it just about reaches her eyes. "Of course," she assures me. "We wouldn't miss it for the world... even if we _have_ been relegated to a separate table."

I laugh. "That was Alice," I tell her. "She just thought everyone would be more comfortable that way. And it means you don't have to wear a funky hat."

"Oh, the silver linings."

I look her in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay, Mom?"

"Of course," she says quickly. _Too quickly_. She speaks again before I can even ask any more questions. "Now, hurry, your brother's waiting."

I let it go because tonight isn't the night for this. I just nod, and she leaves me to finish getting ready.

Riley rides with me to the restaurant, and, if he picks up on my anxiousness, he doesn't say anything. I force myself not to drive quickly, even though I want to. I know Alice is already there, so everything should be fine. Jake will probably be late, and Riley and I left our parents at home with Max.

Alice squeals when she spots me. She rushes my way and squeezes the life out of me.

"Okay, good, you're here," she says, her hands on my shoulders and her eyes on my face. "Thank you for not looking like a hobo."

Riley laughs from my right side, and I shoot him a look that he blatantly ignores. "Hi, Alice," he says instead.

Alice turns her attention to him, giving him the once-over. She pats the top hat on his head, her face giving away her approval. "Riley, dear, are you all dressed up because you heard that my sister is joining us as well?"

Riley's blush is answer enough, and I resist the urge to tease him mercilessly.

Alice pats his shoulder. "Bree should be somewhere back there. Go on and leave us old ladies to complain about our lives."

He shoots us both smiles before he heads off.

Alice links her arm with mine. "One of these days, you're going to be my actual sister," she says, bouncing slightly. "I can't wait!"

I squeeze her arm. "I like the hat," I say, referring to her furry masterpiece. Only Alice Brandon could pull off wearing some kind of animal on her head.

"I'm digging the tiara," she returns. "I was worried you weren't actually going to wear it."

I ignore her because we already had this debate, and I lost. "Who else is here?" I ask instead.

"Nearly everyone," she says. "Just waiting on the Swans, Edward Cullen, Ben and a few others."

I just nod.

"So, how was it driving your new wheels?" she asks.

I smile automatically, as usually happens when I think about the birthday present I received from my parents. It wasn't anything fancy. Secondhand, because of course I'm bound to have a few run-ins. It's a silver, 2007 model Volvo C30 that Alice and Angela absolutely _love_. I think Angela's just relieved she doesn't have to be the only option for designated driver anymore.

"Riley was fiddling with my radio, but I very quickly shut that down," I tell her. "And I think I've decided on a name for her."

"Ooh, I'm listening."

I look at her. "Pistachio."

She looks at me for the longest time. "Oh, I love it! How on earth did you come up with that?"

I can't tell her it was actually Edward who suggested the name. He may be allergic to peanuts, but he has a pistachio obsession. If they weren't as low as they are on calories; I think he would eat them and them alone for his meals. "It came to me while I was eating them," I tell her, which isn't exactly untrue. Edward and I were _both_ eating the pistachios.

"Then you're definitely going to love Jasper's hat."

The hats are all lovely; some are even homemade. Angela used different types of pasta on an old bowler hat to spell out 'Happy B-Day, Bella.' It's adorable, and she clearly can't wait for Edward to see it.

Speaking of.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. I have a message from Jake, where he asks _again_ if he can bring Sam or Paul or Embry. For the hundredth time, I tell him 'no.' I don't want any of his rowdy friends here. I just know the evening would turn sour if they came and I don't want that. I went to his exclusively St Matthew's birthday party with no complaints, and now he's coming to my Waite one.

There's also a message from Edward.

 **Edythe: Okay, I just got out of the shower. I'm starving.  
**

And another.

 **Edythe: Getting dressed now.**

 **Edythe: Should I wear green? Or is that too much?**

I just shake my head as I put my phone away. Slowly, everyone arrives, and we get settled. We're just waiting for Edward, and there's a part of me that feels _odd_. I wonder if he's taking this long because he secretly doesn't actually want to come and he just didn't have the heart to tell me.

No.

He would have told me.

I check my phone anyway, and I'm not surprised to find messages from Edward. There are a whole lot of them, detailing his progress. It's both hilarious and endearing.

 **Edythe: Don't wait for me.**

Fifteen minutes later.

 **Edythe: I'm leaving in like fifty seconds.**

I laugh, because what else can I do?

"I'm starving," Jake says on my left. "Are we going to order soon?"

I look at Alice for confirmation, but she's asking the question of me. I shrug. Edward said don't wait for him, so I don't feel as bad as I probably should when I nod, and we all happily discuss what we want to eat from the set menu. I opt for the Prawn Cocktail for my appetizer, Grilled Beef Fillet for my main, and then, Chocolate Fondant for my dessert. My mouth is literally watering just from the prospect.

"Wanna dance?" Jake asks, his ghastly wolf hat falling forward on his head.

I want to say no, but my foot's been tapping under the table to the sound of the glorious - and extremely loud - cover band. My grin is enough to get him to stand, and he leads me to the dance floor. I have a quick chance to check my phone before we move into position.

 **Edythe: Okay, so I just left.**

 **Edythe: Oh shit. Forgot my hat. Turning back.**

 **Edythe: REALLY don't wait for me. I'm sorry, but you're the one who said Alice won't let me sit at the table without it.**

I just shake my head. His last message is from at least half an hour ago, and I absently wonder where he is. Jake grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. I almost drop my phone as I shriek out loud, which turns into a full on giggle. I pocket my phone and forget everything else.

The music is good, and Jake is warm, and I'm _really_ glad his friends aren't here. He's better when they're not around. _We're_ better.

I don't know for how long we dance, but it takes that long for our food to arrive.

Angela asks about Edward constantly, but he isn't replying to my texts, so I don't know what to think. Jasper makes a comment about Edward thinking he's too good for us, which Jake expands on, and I don't know how to defend him.

We're definitely going to have a conversation about this later.

After our mains, Jake and I dance again. I've given up on trying to get a hold of Edward and leave my phone on the table when we head to the dance floor. I'm still digesting, but it feels so good to be young, and happy, and _here_.

Jake and my dad also didn't get into it, which is always good. They shook hands, exchanged a few words, and then Jake came to sit next to me. The rest is history, I guess. Jake thinks it went well, and I'm inclined to agree with him. Given my history with boys, this is the best I could ask for.

We're just moving into a new song when Alice calls for me from the table, and I look away from Jake. She waves her hand, calling me over.

Jake sighs dramatically.

I smile at him. "Oh, hush," I say. "I'll be right back."

His hands squeeze my hips for a moment before he releases me.

I kiss his cheek because there's no way I'm going to kiss his mouth in front of my dad. I try not to think that I wouldn't do it in front of Edward either, but the thought still comes to me. I like to hope Edward wouldn't kiss Kate in front of me either.

Alice waves her hand again, forcing me to hurry.

"Jeez, Al," I say, almost skipping towards her. "Where's the fire?"

She just shakes her head, and she holds something out for me. "Your phone is ringing."

I frown, taking it from her. Everyone who _could_ possibly be calling me is in this room right now, and Edward knows where I am. He knows, and he should be here already. I stare down at my phone and the Caller ID tells me that it's Esme, newly _re_ saved as "Nemo's Mom."

My heart stills because _why on earth would she be calling_? Edward should be here but he isn't, and his mom is calling. I blink rapidly, slowly sliding my finger to the right and bringing the phone up to my ear. "Hello?" I say.

"Bella."

There's something in her voice that makes me turn away from the table and Alice's curious eyes, the blood in my veins growing cold. This is the _bad_ feeling about to come to light; I just know it.

I _knew_ it. I knew it all along.

"Esme," I force myself to say, my voice soft and hesitant. "What's happened?"

"Oh, Bella," she says, and her voice catches. "There's been an accident."


	10. Six Degrees of Separation

**Chapter Ten: Six Degrees of Separation  
**

 **EPOV  
**

 _Six weeks_.

I just stare at the man in the white coat with wide, disbelieving eyes. I didn't hear him correctly; I'm sure I didn't. He did not just say what I think he just said. "Six weeks?" I question.

My orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Ian Thomas, nods, and I swear my heart stills.

"No," I say. "No way."

"Edward," my father says, but I shake my head. "Just listen."

"No," I say. "No!"

"Edward," Dr. Thomas says, and I stare at him. "It's going to be six weeks. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but it's important that you do what I say if you want to get healthy within the allocated time."

I'm not listening, and they both know it. I just stare down at my traitorous arm as if I can heal it with the sheer power of will. Six weeks is a long time. Six weeks is six weeks _too long_. I can't go six weeks without training.

I can't. There's no way.

"Edward?"

I look up at Dr Thomas.

"I _am_ aware that you participate in a rigorous training program." _He has no idea_. "My job is to get you back to it as soon as possible, but you're going to have to help me help you."

I just continue to stare at him as if he's speaking a foreign language.

"You're lucky," he says. "It's what we call an extra-articular, non-displaced, distal radius fracture."

My father seems to understand what that means, but I just stare blankly at him. Carlisle Cullen was dutifully headed into medicine before his sister brought up the idea of a family law firm. Four years later, Cullen & Associates was fully formed, and now Cullen Novak is a (probably) world-wide and well-known franchise of lawyers, providing some of the best quality legal representation available to the public.

"Basically," Dr. Thomas says, as he shows me an x-ray of my arm, focusing on the area around my wrist. "The fracture doesn't extend into the joint, and your bones have remained in their original positions. As a result, the treatment is not difficult."

I want to roll my eyes, but I don't. Did he not just hear himself? _Six weeks_ is difficult. Doesn't he get it? There has to be something else they can do. There has to be.

"You'll have to wear the cast the entire time," he says, and I just stare. "Every week, you'll come in for an x-ray, and we can assess how the swelling is going down and how the bone is healing. I know how important getting back is to you, and I want to help as much as I can."

I don't believe him.

"Your cast cannot get wet," he says, as if I don't already know. He says lots of other things, but I'm not really listening. My cast can't get wet, which makes swimming rather impossible. It also makes proper hygiene increasingly inconvenient.

 _Six weeks_.

"Do you understand, Edward?"

My father nudges my foot with his own, and I snap to attention. I nod, and I don't miss the look me and Dr. Thomas exchange. I don't want this to be happening. I want to go back to Saturday afternoon when none of this was a problem.

"Come on, Son," my father says, and I stand up immediately, forcing myself not to grimace at the pain of the action. As much as my mind hurts now; my body does too. It's enough to make me feel breathless. I shuffle along behind him as he leads the way out of the orthopedic surgeon's office.

 _Six weeks_.

It's all I can think about as my father drives me home. He tries to talk to me, but I don't say a word back. He casts worried glances at me, and I can feel them burning into my skin. I feel myself caring, but I can't bring myself to say or do anything. When he pulls into the driveway, neither of us moves.

He clears his throat. "Edward, it's going to be fine," he says.

I just look at him. He doesn't know that. He _can't_ know that. Though, I don't tell him that. He kind of looks as devastated as I imagine I do, and I don't have the words to help either of us.

"Edward?"

I shake my head and open the door to climb out.

He isn't staying.

"I'm sorry, Son," he says, but I'm already closing the door. I go inside alone, feeling as down as I can possibly feel right now. The house is quiet, which I appreciate, as I stomp my way up the stairs.

Bella is lying on my bed when I enter my room, and the tension in my muscles seems to dissipate at the mere sight of her. She's on her back, propped up against my pillows, and typing something on her phone, which she sets aside as soon as she spots me, and then gets to her feet.

I must look a sight because she walks straight towards me and wraps me in her arms. I haven't seen her since the night she showed up at the hospital - which feels like forever ago, but is only two nights ago - looking as pretty as ever, eyes full of tears and a reprimand on her lips. As hazy as the memory of that night is, I distinctly remember telling Esme not to call her. I didn't want to ruin her night.

But then, there she was, face splotchy and eyes wide. She wanted to know what happened, but I hadn't been able to tell her. All I remember, even now, was being on my way to the restaurant, and then _nothing_. I blacked out after the impact, and, when I woke up -

 _Six weeks_.

Bella releases me and looks down at my arm. My cast is green in color, as per Bella's request. She smiles softly at me. "So, do I get to be the first to sign it?"

I'm not really in a good mood, but I nod anyway.

She regards me for a moment before I get a kiss on the cheek, and she's off in search of a _Sharpie_.

Okay, so, I get kisses now. The first one was when I was in that hospital bed, recovering from my concussion, and now I know what it feels like to have her lips pressed against my skin. It's doing more harm than good, if I'm being honest.

I nod, and gesture towards my desk before I make my way towards my bed. I sit down on the edge of it and do my best to keep my obvious pain off my face. I have a headache, my ribs are aching, and my arm is throbbing. Right now, I'm definitely willing to throw myself a pity party.

 _Six weeks_.

Bella catches me off guard when she's suddenly in front of me, and my flinch gives way to a grimace.

"Can I see?" she asks, dropping to her knees in front of me.

I don't know what she means, but I don't say anything when her fingers move to the hem of my t-shirt. Slowly, carefully, she lifts it up, and I shift my arms out of the way. She sucks in a breath at the first sight of my bruises. I spent an hour studying them this morning, and they _do_ look bad: large and ghastly purple. They hurt as bad as they look.

She rolls my shirt all the way up and tucks the bundle of fabric under my arms. The cold air washes over my skin, but that is nothing compared to the feel of her fingertips. Her hands are warm, and her touch seems to pulsate through my body. She's gentle as her fingers dance over my skin. It should hurt, but it doesn't. Bella would never hurt me.

"Am I hurting you?" she asks unnecessarily, as if she can hear my thoughts.

I shake my head.

Her eyes are serious, and her brow is furrowed. She's thinking something, and I don't want her to. "Could I have lost you?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

I want to say 'no,' but the word doesn't come out. I _don't_ know what _could_ have happened.

"Edward?"

I manage to shake my head before I shrug my shoulders.

Her fingers run up my skin, over my shirt, until she reaches my cheek. I have a cut above my eye, and she traces over it with her thumb. Her expression is hard, as if she's thinking about a world where the accident didn't result in just bruises, cuts and a broken arm.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" she asks.

I take a deep, painful breath. She doesn't deserve my silence. Nobody does. Well, nobody but me, I guess.

"Bella," I eventually whisper, and her eyes meet mine. It's more of a whimper, really. I feel broken, but I am so relieved that she is right in front of me. "Thank you for being here."

"Oh, Edward," she says, sounding devastated. "Please don't ever do that to me again."

I just about manage a smile.

She bristles slightly, but her eyes don't stray from mine. This moment right here is important, but I wouldn't be able to say why. She's _here_ , and it means everything. Her eyes are so expressive, and I can see the concern and the relief.

The _care_.

We both startle when my phone starts to ring, and the spell is broken. It takes me a moment to gather myself before I fish for it in the pocket of my jeans. It's Kate. Of course, it is.

"Umm," I say, clearly struggling. "It's, uh, Kate. I just told her what happened, and I - " I stop, because I don't really know what to say. I don't really feel like talking to Kate about the accident, and I sure as hell don't want to hear a fellow swimmer's pity that I won't be able to train properly for six weeks.

 _Six weeks_.

Bella presses her lips together, before she nods, and gets to her feet. "I'm going to get something to drink," she says, and I get another kiss. To the forehead, this time. Okay, I could get used to this. I really could.

I answer Kate's call as soon as Bella is out of the room. She's as worried as ever. I can hear the concern in her voice, the helplessness. She's thousands of miles away, and there's nothing she can do about it. I don't _want_ her to do anything. I end up telling her all I'm comfortable with, which isn't much. I don't remember much, which I think is for the best. I don't _want_ to remember.

"I want to see you," she says, which means nothing to me. She's in New York City, and I'm in Seattle. What she wants means nothing right now. How did we ever think that this would work? It's never going to work. I know it, and I suspect she knows it too.

She says words, and I say fewer. When she hangs up, I'm exhausted. I set my phone aside, fix my shirt and then shift to lie down. My ribs burn as I settle on my right side and prop my left arm up on a pillow. It hurts, but it's a dull sort of ache that is more annoying than anything. I close my eyes and try not to drive myself into a panic attack.

 _Six weeks_.

I don't hear Bella's return, but I feel the bed shift under her weight, and I open one eye to look at her. She looks pensive as she also settles on her side, facing me.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi back," I say, mirroring her tone.

"Everything okay?"

I close my eye again and breathe out, grimacing slightly. "No."

"What's wrong?"

"I can't train for six weeks," I tell her, surprised that the words can even come out. What isn't surprising is that they come out in front of Bella. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do without training, Bella. I mean, who am I if I'm not swimming? It's who I am. It's all I am."

"Edward," she says, her tone taking on a rushed quality, and I open my eyes to look at her. "It's not _all_ you are," she says. "It's only a _part_ of you. There's so much more to you than just _swimming_ , and I won't have you talking so little about my best friend, do you hear me?"

I blink, my breath catching. " _Best_ friend?"

She takes a moment, looking panicked. She clearly didn't realize what she was saying, and I give her ample opportunity to rectify her faux pas. "Well, uh, yeah, you're definitely one of my best friends, Edward."

I just stare at her.

"Hey," she murmurs, shifting towards me. "My little Nemo, please don't cry."

I frown. "What?"

Her fingers move to my face, and she wipes at the tears I didn't even know were there. "It's going to be okay, Edward," she says. "Even if you can't get into the water, you can still, uh, run?"

I laugh. "Can't run," I tell her. "It's kind of a thing that swimmers don't really do."

"Okay," she says. "I'm sure there are other things you can do." She bites her bottom lip as she thinks, and I can't stop myself from staring at her mouth. "I know! You can do sit-ups!"

I laugh again, which jostles my aching body, and my smile is quickly replaced by a grimace.

"Oh, Nemo," she says, shifting closer again, and running a hand through my hair. "You're breaking my heart here."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I'm sorry I worry you, and I'm sorry I ruined your dinner."

She closes her eyes for a moment. " _You_ didn't ruin anything, Edward," she says. "I told you I had a bad feeling."

I cough.

Her fingers are soothing as they thread through my strands. "God, just, please don't do anything like that again. I don't think I'll survive it."

"I just - I know it was a special night for you, and I wanted to spend it with you," I tell her. "I don't know. Maybe if I'd been paying more attention. I mean, I wasn't in a rush, but I - " I take a shuddering breath. "Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"It's going to be okay, right?" I need to hear her repeat it.

Her fingers are still in my hair, but they stop their movement. "Of course, Edward," she says quietly. "It's going to be just fine. This is just a speed bump; just a test, to see what you're made of. We both know you're made of the strong stuff. It's six weeks, and I know it feels like an eternity, but it's going to fly past, and then you can get back to it."

"You sound so sure."

"I am."

"But how? Why?"

"Because I know you," she says. "And, whatever you need to do to get back, I know you'll do it."

"Because I'm Edward Cullen?"

She grins at me. "Because you're Edward Cullen, yes. It's because you're _you_ , and I believe in you. We all believe in you."

"Just you," I say tiredly, my eyes closing and staying closed. Maybe the painkillers are kicking in or something, but I suddenly feel very content just lying here, with her. "My Bella."

Her fingers resume their movement, and it's both soothing and calming. I don't know if I dream it, but I'm sure I feel Bella press her lips against my chin.

I guess I fall asleep because Bella's gone when I next open my eyes.

I roll out of bed and visit the bathroom. I barely recognize myself in the mirror. Also, shit, I'm hungry. I wash my face before I head downstairs, searching for Heidi. Instead, I find Rose and Emmett sitting side by side on the large couch in the TV lounge. The TV is blaring, and they aren't saying anything to each other. Things _have_ been quite tense between them since the entire blowout regarding Royce and Rose dating. I'm surprised they're even sitting next to each other.

My mind momentarily registers panic that maybe Bella and the two of them crossed paths, but I'm beyond caring right now. I wouldn't know how to explain it any more than Bella would.

"There he is," Emmett says as soon as he spots me in the doorway. "You look like shit."

Rose slaps his arm, hard, as she gets to her feet. "How are you feeling?" she asks, moving to hug me. She's gentle, but it still hurts. I'm definitely going to need a painkiller soon.

"Sore," I admit as she releases me.

We both head back to the couch, and I settle down between them, acting as a physical barrier. It's awkward for a moment before Rose makes it that bit worse for me.

"Who's Beau?" she asks.

I blink in confusion - and panic. So much panic. "What?"

She points at my cast, where Bella's signed her 'name.' She must have done it while I was sleeping. "Who's Beau?" she asks again.

I don't even know what to say right now. My head is aching, and I can't think of something suitable to get me out of having to tell the truth. Honestly, what do I even say? What would she believe?

Emmett helps me without even knowing it. "Leave the guy alone, Detective Hale," he says coyly. "Do you or do you not want to sign his cast?"

Rose huffs before she reaches into her bag at her feet for a _Sharpie_. I sit perfectly still as she signs her name by drawing an actual rose. I don't know how she handles it on the curve of my arm, but it looks perfect. She blushes slightly when I tell her.

When Rose hands Emmett the _Sharpie_ , I stiffen.

"I swear," I say to him; "if you draw a penis on my arm; I will gut you."

He fakes astonishment. "Jeez, almost dying has made you mean."

Rose reaches behind me and slaps the back of his head. "Behave."

He pouts, but I don't react. I'm tired, and I can hear that my words are starting to slur. Right now, I don't even _want_ to be talking.

Maybe Rose shoots him another look because Emmett sighs heavily and relents. "I promise; no genitalia," he says.

I watch him carefully as he scribbles his name. Really, if I didn't know what it was supposed to say, I wouldn't be able to read it. "Jeez, Em," I say. "Why does your handwriting look like bird shit?"

He exaggerates a gasp. "I still have a _Sharpie_ here, you know?"

I quickly take it from him. "Hah."

We settle in again, and I can tell that Rose wants to ask me things. I'm not in the mood for answering questions, so I tell her all I'm comfortable with right now. It's a bit more than I said to Kate, but Rose is right here. I can feel the heat of her, and it makes all the difference.

Maybe she doesn't understand how important my training is to me because she doesn't even comment on the idea of having to suffer through six weeks without it. She just nods as I speak, and I reason maybe Bella really is the only person I can _talk_ to; the only one I want to talk to.

I think Kate only understands because she's a swimmer.

Bella understands because she's Bella.

Rose just _won't_ , and Emmett isn't bothered to try.

"Are you going to be at school tomorrow?" Rose asks me.

I shrug. "Probably," I say. "I've already missed enough days as it is. Even a single day of school is enough to catch up on." The mere thought of everything I've missed gives me anxiety.

Rose nods. "I brought you some of your work if you want to have a look," she says. "I'm happy to help if you need it."

I smile my thanks, and absently query about what's gone on since I blacked out after the collision. Emmett tells me unnecessary things about his football training and how they're going to tear it up on the field this coming Friday night. Rose tells me that the café we talked about visiting had their grand opening, and she was taking me there as soon as I was up for it.

I don't know if I'll be up for it anytime soon, but I don't say that.

 _Six weeks_.

I don't know how I'm supposed to get through it.

* * *

Despite Bella's assurances, the weeks are slow. They drag by, scraping me along the ground behind them.

I hate it. I hate it all.

Without training, I don't have to be up at four o'clock, but my eyes always snap open anyway. Even though I can't swim, I still do all the weight and strength training I'm allowed to. Conditioning is just as important as working on my speed and endurance.

But, all I want to do is swim.

I _can_ get into the water, so long as my cast doesn't get wet. I do it only at home though. It's easier to control. Esme wraps my arm in a towel before she wraps it in plastic. I keep it out of the water with will, _and_ a little floating device. It's not ideal, but it'll have to do for now. I think I just miss the feeling of the cold water around my body.

Bella and Esme find it a little hilarious just how mollified I am by it. Whatever. They can laugh. At least I'm in the water.

Before I know it, the end of October is among us, and it's Halloween. Personally, I'm not much of a fan of Halloween. I'm indifferent to it, really, but Bella _loves_ it. I don't know what it is, but maybe she likes the idea of dressing up; of pretending that she's something she's not. Who knows?

It's the one thing that she and Alice agree on, and Angela is the one who looks on in equal parts wonder and despair. Maybe it's because of the religious, gray area surrounding the holiday, I don't know. Bella doesn't say.

Halloween is on a Sunday, so it's technically a school night.

Bella texts me saying she's taking Max around the neighborhood and asks if I'd like to join them with the twins. I've never really cared much for the whole Trick-Or-Treat thing - maybe because I'm half-Canadian or because my childhood was stunted - but I roll out of bed anyway and text her to tell her I'm game. I haven't seen her all weekend.

When I get downstairs, Felix is just getting ready to head out with Peter.

"Liam's not going?" I ask.

Felix shakes his head. "Doctor said no."

I sigh. "Poor guy," I say, because the chicken pox is keeping him home. Esme wanted to have the boys catch it at the same time, but I guess Peter's immune system just said 'nope.'

"He's heartbroken."

I can only imagine. I drop my eyes to look at Peter, who's dressed like a little Dracula. He's got on his long cape, his plastic teeth in his mouth and fake blood dripping from the corner of his lips. He looks great.

I move to kneel down in front of him. "Did Mommy do that for you?" I ask him.

He nods. "Do you like it?"

"Very scary."

He growls at me, and I fake a cower.

I look up at Felix. "Dad and Esme are out?"

He nods. "Big case."

I frown. Some _big case_? I shake my head. It _is_ odd that Esme isn't home, but that makes my next question simpler. "Do you mind if I take him around?" I ask. "We're meeting Bella."

Peter perks up. "And Max?"

I smile at him. "Of course."

It takes us a moment to get ready. I rush back upstairs to grab shoes, a jacket and the _Peter Pan_ hat I was supposed to wear to Bella's birthday dinner. It survived the accident, even though my car didn't.

My father replaced it immediately, though he didn't allow me to drive for a full week. I'm kind of grateful for it _now_ , even though I was pissed at him before. There was a lot of silence. I didn't talk to him for two weeks, which I know was unfair but I couldn't help it.

I remember a counselor once asking me how much I blame my father for what happened when I was younger. I never really understood what she meant back then, but I think I get it now. How much _do_ I blame him? Subconsciously, at least. I have to stop to acknowledge it, which makes me feel better but worse at the same time.

"Ready?" I ask Peter.

He immediately takes hold of my right hand, which leaves me with no hands. It's cute, sure, but I don't know where Bella and Max are. I don't really want to let go of his hand because he's my little Peter, but I have to. I rush around him and put my left arm around his shoulders instead, almost hugging him to me. It's quick, and I hope he won't see it as rejection.

He's flighty sometimes. Fragile. It's built into him, and we're a family that does its best to help.

I take out my phone with my right hand. "Hmm, let's see where Bella and Max are," I narrate, as I dial Bella.

She sounds breathless when she answers, and I can't help it when my body tenses at the mere thought of _why_. "Okay, so, just so you know, _avoid_ the Volturi house," she says. "Max and I dared to go in, and I think I just crapped my pants."

I laugh. "That scary, huh?"

"Definitely not for your brothers."

"It's just Peter and me," I tell her. "And, are you at the Volturi house now?"

"Oh no," she says. "Poor Liam. And no, we kind of ran from it. Headed your way though. Turning onto Belvedere."

"Okay," I say; "I think I know where you are. We should meet up in a bit."

"I hope you dressed up."

I blink. "You're saying that as if _you've_ dressed up."

"I have," she says.

"Oh?" I swallow. Sweet Jesus. "What are you wearing?"

She laughs. "That is _so_ not a question that you ask someone who's not your girlfriend, Edward."

I push through, blatantly ignoring the way the thought of her being my girlfriend makes my heart rate quicken. "Okay... how about, what are you dressed up as? Uh, what's your costume?"

"It's a surprise," she says, and then hangs up.

My heart rate rises a little bit more, but I try to ignore it as I pocket my phone. Peter and I take it easy as we pass by the decorated houses. He's too shy to go up to the doors, and he refuses to let me go with him. Maybe he's embarrassed, so I don't push it. I suspect he's waiting for Max. Max brings Peter out of himself by just being his happy-go-lucky self. It's difficult to be anything but open when you're with him, because he doesn't allow you to be anything other than yourself.

It's the innocence of him. I hope he never loses it.

We meet up with Bella and Max on Belvedere, and, oh my, I can't breathe. Bella barely gives me time to take in her costume before she hugs me. All I know is it's green, and it's sparkly. She's in a leotard, green leggings and a frilly mini-skirt that isn't helping with my breathing.

Peter gets a hug too, and she doesn't comment when he stiffens in her arms. He's not much of a hugger. I'm not much of one either. _I_ get it from my father, and I guess Peter gets it from birth.

"Hey," Bella says, touching my hat with her fingers; "we match."

We do. She's the Tinkerbell to my Peter Pan, and I can't help grinning stupidly. _We match_. In clothing, sure, but in so many other ways as well, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

She looks me over, and my skin tingles under her scrutiny.

Max tugs on my jacket and I give him my attention, greeting him enthusiastically. He's not averse to hugs, and I get a lengthy one, even lifting him up off the ground and spinning once. When I release him, Bella is looking at me curiously.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she's quick to say. "Shall we?"

I nod, and we get on our way. I try not to read too much into the fact that both Peter and Max grab for Bella's hands. For a while, I walk behind the three of them. I also try not to watch Bella, but I can't help it. She's so beautiful, and the sway of her hips is distracting.

I think of Kate, which forces me to look away, ashamed. I'm terrible. Shit, I'm fucking horrible. What am I doing? Honestly, just what the fuck am I doing?

A moment later, Max runs back to me. I can't see his face behind his plastic _Spider-Man_ mask, but I just know he's smiling. It's practically his default setting on a day like this.

"What's up?" I ask, as he moves to my side.

"Nothing," he says, taking hold of my right hand. He grips it tightly, and I try not to grimace.

Bella glances over her shoulder at me and smiles.

I automatically smile back.

Jesus Christ, I'm in deep.

So deep.

* * *

Bella's watching me intensely, as if she's waiting for me to _do_ something.

She's going to be waiting a long time.

"Edward?"

I swallow audibly.

"Just move it."

I shake my head.

She loses patience with me quickly, and reaches for my left hand. She _pulls_ , and I expect it to hurt, but it doesn't. "See," she says, tugging again. "It's fine. It's healed. Your doctor wouldn't have taken the cast off if it wasn't." Her fingers are warm on my skin as she slides them across my wrist, feeling for any foreign protuberances. "See?"

I _do_ see. I'm staring at my wrist; staring at her fingers, trying to accept the truth. My arm is healed. I can get back to training.

Why then do I feel so apprehensive about it?

"Hey," Bella says; "look at me."

I meet her gaze.

"I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, and I don't think you do either." Her expression is soft, understanding. "But hear this, your cast is off, Edward," she says, as if she has to remind me the ghastly green thing is finally gone. "It came off this morning."

I blink. "I can go swimming?"

She nods. "You can go swimming."

"I can go swimming," I echo.

She nods again.

I look back down. Dr. Thomas did all the necessary checks when he removed the cast, but I wasn't yet used to moving my arm normally. Even as Felix brought me back to school, I kept it still and tucked into my body. I came straight to Mr. Banner's class, bypassing my friends, just because I needed a moment.

But Bella.

I found her in here, and she was clearly waiting for me. I didn't even know I needed to see her until I did.

I sigh, as I stretch my fingers. I expect Bella to take her hand back, but she doesn't. Her forefinger and middle finger are pressed against my pulse point, and I wonder if she can feel how erratically my heart is beating. I'm one week ahead of schedule, which gives me an extra few days to get back to full fitness before the National Championships. I can do it. I know I can.

"Are you okay?" she asks me when I haven't said anything for a while.

I open my mouth to respond, but the classroom door opens, and all conversation stops. Bella's hand flies from mine immediately, and her body stiffens before she relaxes at the sight of Mr. Banner. She doesn't give back her hand, though.

He greets us before heading to his desk.

"We're eager beavers, aren't we?" I whisper to her.

"It's disgusting."

I laugh, as I stretch out my arm again. "What's disgusting is this arm," I say. "Look at how pale it is, Bella. It looks sick."

"So, Esme told me that you have to do physio," she says conversationally. "Something about muscle atrophy."

I nod. "Andrea and Dean have a whole schedule drawn up for me. Apparently, it's going to hurt."

"I can imagine."

I watch her fingers twitch, and I can't help my smile. Clearly, she wants to touch my arm again, but we're at school and that can't happen. We both know that.

She lets out an irritated puff of air before she takes out her books and settles down for the upcoming class. I try to settle down as well, but I can't. Just thinking about what I'm going to have to do to get fit again gives me anxiety. Maybe Bella can tell, because she keeps glancing at me as the lesson goes on. She worries a lot.

She worries _enough_.

By the end of the day, I've worked myself into a panic attack of epic proportions. I escape from French without acknowledging Bella or anyone else. I rush to my locker, grab the books I need, and then I get out of there.

My father had Felix take me to the doctor because he didn't think I would do it myself.

But my car is here, parked in its usual spot. I race home, quickly realizing I'm wasting time _thinking_. I don't have time to throw around if I want to be ready by the first week of December. Just the thought of it makes me twitch as I pack a bag for the pool. I'm so out of practice that I forget a towel and have to go back for it.

It's still relatively early, and I manage to sneak in without people who know me noticing. Under normal circumstances, I would wait and get started on my weight session, but I have to get into the water. How can I head to the weight room when I have the opportunity to get into the water? It would be sacrilegious.

Because it's a feeling that I can't even describe. It's as if everything is suddenly right with the world, and I feel it all the way down to my very toes. It's going to be okay. Bella said it's going to be okay, and I'm inclined to believe her. She hasn't failed me yet.

I swim until I'm completely spent. _Completely_. Just the realization that I'm so unfit gives me anxiety. I have to get back to my best as soon as possible. I don't have time to waste.

Which is why I throw myself into my training.

Excessively.

Every day, every free minute that I have, I'm training in some way or the other. It's all I'm focused on as the week progresses, with everything just taking a back seat. I'm not prepared for our Biology practical on Wednesday, and, despite Bella's irritation with me, we get through it without disaster.

Because the disaster happens the next day during said lesson. Why does everything exciting happen during Biology?

"Edward?"

I can hear Bella speaking, but I'm not really listening.

"Edward? Edward?"

I blink as I focus my attention on Bella. "What?"

She frowns. "Are you okay?"

My irritation spikes. "Don't I look okay?" I snap.

She flinches. "Uh, you just seem distracted," she says.

"I just have a lot on my mind," I tell her, which isn't really untrue. I _do_ have a lot on my mind, though I'm not really sure _what_. I think I should apologize for snapping at her, but she's not even looking at me anymore.

I wouldn't call what's going on a _fight_ , but things do feel disjointed. We get through the rest of the lesson easily enough, and she reminds me she's coming over later.

"Huh?"

"It's Thursday, Edward."

I frown, confused for a moment. It's Thursday. "I know that."

Her expression is a mixture of concerned and annoyed. "Edward, I told you we're going to work on our write-up tonight."

"I have training," I tell her.

"Which is why I'm coming _after_."

"My training is going to go late, Bella."

Her eyes narrow. "Instead of making excuses, why don't you just tell me you don't want me to come over?"

"It's not that - " I start, but she cuts me off.

"Save it," she says, shaking her head. "I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to sort yourself out. I'm not going to drag us both through this write-up."

I glare at her. "Nobody asked you to," I snap, drawing the attention of the people packing up behind us. "Jesus, Bella; it isn't as if it's not going to get done!"

She returns my glare for the longest time, her eyes studying me as if she's looking for something in my face.

"What?" I ask.

She just shakes her head, gathers her things, and then leaves the classroom.

I wait a moment, trying to figure out what just happened. It's giving me a headache, so I stop, gather my own things, and then head to my next class. I can't focus on whatever's bothering Bella right now. I need to focus on swimming. Right now, it's the most important thing. Everything else can wait.

I can't wait for school to let out, and my knee bounces the entire way through French. As soon as the bell rings, I'm out of my seat and gone. I don't have time to waste.

The pool is inviting, but also a little daunting. I feel exhausted just looking at it, but I know I have to push through. I don't have a choice if I'm going to have any success at the National Championships that I _am_ going to, come hell or high water. I don't care what anyone says.

Seeing as I have my own training schedule, I'm left alone as I swim in the furthest lane, isolated. I have my earphones in, and I just swim and swim, pushing myself to my very limit and beyond. I'm glad they leave me to it, because it's incredibly late by the time I do call it a night.

It's nearly ten o'clock, and I'm pruned. I take my time in the shower, nibble on some leftover lunch, and then head home. Heidi's gone, and I find my supper in the oven. It's the usual, sure, but I don't want it. I'm hungry, but I'm not at the same time.

I grab my protein supplements and energy drinks and head up to my bedroom. I have a French speech I still have to write and practice, which takes me an obscene amount of time. It's almost two o'clock by the time I crawl into bed, and then I'm up again at four o'clock. I'm exhausted, sure, but I have to get to training, and my _feelings_ aren't going to stop that.

I'm one of the first in the pool, and one of the last to get out. I'm late for school, but I don't really care. I just make it to homeroom to get my name ticked off the register, before it's time for assembly. I don't look at Bella, and I'm sure she doesn't look at me.

That doesn't change all day. I dip down into the pool during lunch to get in a few laps and then sit through a very tense Biology lesson. Mr. Banner hasn't given us any free time to work on our write-ups, which I'm a little bit thankful for. I'd rather listen to him prattle on about goodness-knows-what than deal with whatever Bella and I are not talking about.

When the bell sounds, indicating the end of the lesson; Bella gets up and leaves without looking at me. I take a moment before I stand. I'm hit by a wave of dizziness and put my hand on the table to steady myself. Huh. _Weird_.

I make it through my next class, only to arrive at French feeling _odd_.

I lean against the wall and try to steady my breathing before I go inside and slip into my seat. Madame Pince is sitting at her desk, calling people up to deliver their speeches one by one. She's going along the line, starting with the first row, which means that Bella stands to say hers before me. I try to listen, but I just can't focus enough to understand.

When Ben is up, I prepare my cue cards, my hands shaking as I do. Huh. I catch Bella's glance my way, but she says nothing. I can't pay attention to the words Ben says either, but that has nothing to do with nerves. It's something else.

Something is wrong. I just know it.

"Edward, you're up next," Madame Pince says.

I take a breath and gather my cue cards before I stand. My foot catches on my chair, and I swear under my breath. Bella looks over her shoulder at me, and I look away. I hate that we're fighting, but I can't bring myself to do anything about it.

Right now, I have other things to worry about.

I straighten, and get hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. I place a hand on the desk to steady myself, but it doesn't work. I see white spots as I tilt backward.

"Edward?" someone says, but it barely registers.

I'm falling backward.

"Edward?"

My vision goes black.

Bella screams. Maybe somebody else.

And then nothing.


	11. Without You

**Chapter Eleven: Without You  
**

 **BPOV  
**

It happens so fast, but so slowly at the same time.

My scream is automatic as I watch him fall, and my subconscious registers relief that I'm not the only one who does. I'm up and out of my seat in no time, but Ben's kneeling down next to Edward before I can even form another coherent thought.

"Get the nurse," Madame Pince screams out at someone.

"Should we call nine-one-one?" somebody asks.

I just watch as Ben turns Edward onto his side.

"Can I get some water?" Ben asks hurriedly, though he's oddly calm. A part of my brain wonders if he's in the First Aid Club. "Somebody. Anyone. Get me some water!"

I fumble for my water bottle in my bag and shove it at him.

Everything after that goes by in a blur. Edward is minimally responsive, but it isn't enough. I need him to open his eyes. I need him to say or do something, _anything_. I need _him_.

When Sister Davis arrives, she's not alone. I don't know who called them but there are paramedics with her, and I can only watch with wide eyes as they attend to the unconscious boy on the floor. They take him away on a stretcher, and I desperately want to follow. But how can I? Who am I to him?

Madame Pince unsuccessfully tries to resume the lesson after things have settled, but nobody is paying attention to anything she is saying. Particularly me. I can't sit still as I wait for the final bell to ring. They just took Edward away, and I don't know if he's okay, let alone _why_ he just collapsed in front of us.

"Okay," Madame Pince says. "You're dismissed, and I'm sure that Edward is going to be just fine."

How does she know?

She can't know.

Nobody can know.

I stand immediately and get ready to leave, but Ben grabs my wrist to stop me from rushing out. I look at him expectantly.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and I want to shake my head, no. I'm most definitely _not_ okay.

I nod anyway.

He looks like he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't comment. "Your water bottle, Bella."

I blink. "Huh?"

"Your water bottle."

Oh. I reach for it, and then rush out of the room. I call Edward's phone immediately, but I'm not surprised when he doesn't answer, and my subsequent call to Esme gets me the same response: nothing. I'm working myself into a right panic by the time I get to my locker. I don't know what to do.

Who do I call?

Where do I go?

I don't know.

When I get to my locker, I can't even focus on taking the correct books for the homework I need to do. I can't focus on anything other than the image of Edward _falling_. Just the thought of it makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I need to get out of here. Right now.

Unfortunately or fortunately, Angela doesn't let me.

She catches me at my locker, her eyes wide with concern. "What's this I hear about Edward Cullen collapsing in French?"

I don't even know what to say to her right now.

"Bella?" she questions. "I saw the ambulance from Art."

I shake my head. "He collapsed," I say before I nod. Edward just collapsed in front of me. He _collapsed_. "He collapsed," I say again.

"Bella?" she asks, her features changing to something I don't recognize. "Bella?"

"I have to go," I say.

"Where are you going?"

I don't answer. All I do is slam my locker shut, turn the key and then push past her. Logically, I know I'm in no state to be driving, but I have to see him. I have to. I manage to get to my car, put the key in the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

I don't make it much further, because my tears are blurring my vision. I'm forced to pull over to the side of the road and try my best to calm down. I call Edward again before I try Esme once more. They both go straight to voicemail this time.

I panic. Oh God, what if he's not okay? What if something is terribly wrong? What if it's some latent complication from his concussion after the car accident? The tears just keep coming, and I feel so helpless. It takes me forever to compose myself enough to get back on the road. I suspect Edward was taken to _a_ hospital, and I wouldn't know where to go.

So, I go to Edward's house.

What I find is nothing like I imagined. When I get to the house, I know I won't be able to go inside. There are cars parked in the driveway, and I recognize a few of them as belonging to Edward's friends. I deflate immediately. Of course, they would be here. Of course, they would rush over as soon as they heard what happened.

I mean, _I'm_ here. Which is why I'm not surprised, though I'm annoyed and irritated. I can't go inside. I can't check on him. Is he even here?

I redial his number. Nothing. Esme's number doesn't fare much better. I hate this. Why won't somebody just answer the damn phone? I need to know he's okay. So, I wait. I park across the street and _wait_. I should be going to lacrosse practice, but I know I won't be able to handle it.

I don't know how long I sit there before there's any movement. The front door opens, and I watch as Emmett and Jared walk towards Emmett's car, and then take off, headed somewhere.

I don't know.

I don't care.

I still wait.

When Emmett and Jared get back, they're in two cars: Emmett's and Edward's. They're both smiling when they head towards the house, which can mean only one thing: Edward is fine. The tension in my body dissipates only slightly, but it's enough to get me moving. I go home, climb the stairs and lock myself in my bedroom.

I should probably get started on my homework, but I can't. Today has taught me something I wasn't ready to learn. Edward and I can pretend all we want, but what we have isn't healthy. The secrecy of it lost its appeal a long time ago, and I was sorely tempted to charge into his house and say screw it all.

My reaction to the fact he collapsed right in front of me isn't normal for people who are just friends.

We aren't.

We're more, and it's terrifying.

I grab my phone and call Jake. I need to talk to him, to somehow settle myself. We talk for almost half an hour, and maybe he can hear something desperate in my voice because he obliges me. I need to get my priorities straight.

We can't do this anymore. They're simple words, and I know I'm going to have to say them to someone. Jake or Edward.

Maybe both of them.

When Jake has to get to practice, I do work on my homework; just to keep my mind occupied. Both Angela and Alice send me texts, but I don't reply to them. I don't even know what to say. It was one thing to react to the news that Edward was in a car accident the way that I did; but this is different. I _saw_ it happen, and I think it's the fact I couldn't _do_ anything that makes it worse.

I couldn't protect him.

I couldn't _save_ him.

I don't know if I'm getting confused, or if I just won't accept that Edward is more important to me than either of us even realized. My mind keeps drifting back to Edward, which makes the start to my English essay incredibly amateur. It doesn't even make sense when I read it over. I keep trying, regardless, but it doesn't get any better. It just gets worse.

As soon as my phone starts to ring, I snatch for it. I spy 'Edythe,' but I already knew it was him before I even looked. "Hello," I answer, and the sound of his voice _breaks me_.

"Bella?" It's a sob, really, and I can hear that he's crying.

"Edward?"

"Can you - " he stops. "I need - "

My heart hurts. It hurts _so_ _much_.

" _Please_."

I immediately stand up. "Okay," I say. "Okay, Edward," I tell him. "I'm coming, okay? I'm on my way."

He doesn't say anything. Maybe he can't; maybe he won't, but he doesn't hang up either. We kind of just listen to each other breathe as I grab my things and then make my way downstairs. I don't hang up as I rush to my car and climb into the driver's seat. I start the car and wait for the Bluetooth to connect.

"Edward, you still there?" I ask.

His breath quickens, but he doesn't say anything. As long as I can hear him.

I drive fast, but I don't break any road rules. I want to get to Edward as quickly as possible, but I also want to get there. I've never been more relieved that we don't live far from each other, and I arrive at the Cullen house quickly. I pull into the driveway, and park to the right, in the spot Edward's father told me to use. He dubbed it 'Bella's Spot' after I kept blocking access to his garage door.

I don't bother to knock because I spend so much time here, it's actually a problem. I push open the door and enter the foyer.

I take my phone off speaker and bring it to my ear. "Where are you?" I ask, but he's gone.

Esme must hear me, because she appears out of nowhere, looking a mixture of concern, guilt and relief. "Oh," she says as soon as she sees me. "Thank God you're here."

I don't know what to say to that, so I say nothing.

"I was just about to call you back," she says, which may or may not be true. "He's not handling this well," she tells me.

I blink. "What happened?"

"The doctors are calling it exhaustion - uh, dehydration and anxiety," she explains. "He's been so focused on trying to catch up on the training he's missed, and now he's run himself ragged. He's been hiding it from everyone, training too much, not eating as much as he should, and it's taken its toll on him."

It's the reason he's been so irritable.

"The doctors want him to take it easy," she adds. "They don't want him to train, which he believes means they don't want him to compete in the National Championships. He hasn't taken it well. At all."

That makes sense. I wouldn't take it well either, if I were him.

"They have a plan to get him back up to speed, but he's not following it," she explains tiredly. "He wants to be back to his best right away, but it's not possible. I need your help to make him see reason. We can't go through another day like today." She falls silent. "I never want to receive another phone call like I did today. I can't handle hearing my son is in the hospital again. I _can't_."

I can only imagine what that feels like. I _watched_ him fall, and I could go my entire life without witnessing that ever again.

Esme tells me a few more things, briefly explaining the plan and how important it is to make Edward see reason, before she sends me upstairs. "Go on up," she eventually says, so I do.

I practically run up the stairs, turn right into the corridor and rush to the end where I find Edward's door slightly ajar. I can't hear anything, but I don't bother to knock. I push the door open to find Edward lying on his bed, curled up in the fetal position.

I move straight towards him, practically crawl over him and put my face right in front of his. "Edward," I whisper.

He opens his eyes, and I'm surprised by how red and bloodshot they are. "Bella," he cries, and then all but breaks down. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I take his head in my hands. "Why are you sorry?"

"I don't want to fight," he says. "I don't want to."

"We're not fighting, Edward," I tell him, which is the truth. Well, we're definitely not fighting _anymore_ , that's for sure.

He smiles slightly, but it falls away almost immediately. "They don't want me to swim," he says, and I can hear the pain in his voice. "The doctors; they don't want me to compete."

He sounds so lost, and I don't blame him. Swimming is his life; it's who he is. No. It's everything he _thinks_ he is.

"Edward," I say, and his eyes meet mine.

He looks devastated.

"Maybe it's not a bad idea," I say, and he starts to move away from me. I hold on tight. "Just listen to me, okay?"

He stares at me with wide eyes.

"Take this week off," I tell him. "Just recuperate." He makes a pained sound. "Next week, you'll go back," I tell him. "You'll start off slow, just get back into it. You can't just throw yourself in after an injury, Edward, and I know you know that. We both know you're smart and logical enough to know the truth of that."

"But I have to be ready," he argues.

"And you will be," I say, my fingers running through his hair. I calm him down with soothing words, assuring him that everything is going to be okay. He just needs a good rest. Both his body and his mind are tired, and they need the time to recover.

I don't know if he believes me, but his eyes close anyway, and his body relaxes.

I fall silent, and his breathing shallows.

"Will you stay?" he whispers after a moment, and I don't have to tell him I had no intention of leaving.

I wait a beat, before I wrap my arms tightly around him and draw him close to my chest. I can feel the warm puffs of his breath through my shirt, but I don't let go. I can't and I won't. I just want to protect him from this world; just keep him safe and happy. Really, I want nothing more.

I think he falls asleep because his breathing steadies, and his grip on the fabric of my shirt loosens. It's probably going to be super-creased, but I don't care. At one of his worst moments, he called _me_. Bella.

And I came.

I was always going to come.

We've hugged, sure; held hands and laid facing each other; I even kiss his cheeks and forehead now... but this is the first time I've actually held him. I just hold him, even as he sleeps. I want him to feel safe. I want him to feel as if nobody can touch or hurt him while he's in my embrace, protected from the nasty world.

I lie perfectly still as he sleeps, my hand the only thing moving along his back. All he's wearing is a t-shirt and sweatpants. I can feel the tension in his muscles, even in sleep, and I want to do all I can to make it better. I just don't know how I'm supposed to do that.

Esme comes to check on us after a while. If she's surprised to find us on his bed, wrapped around each other; she doesn't say so.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asks, whispering.

I just nod, and then she leaves. I close my eyes and enjoy this moment; when I know where he is and that he's safe. There are things we're definitely going to have to deal with after this, but I know we can't discuss it today.

When Edward does awake, he's in a panic. It takes me a moment to calm him, and then he lets out a long breath and relaxes into his duvet. Despite the fact he's been asleep for a few hours; he still looks exhausted. He's also chalky white, and his skin is cold to touch.

"How long have I been out?" he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly closed.

I touch his forehead, trying to coax his eyes open. "Not long enough, it seems," I say. "Do you have a headache?"

"Uh huh."

I run my fingers through the hair on top of his head, before I rise and head into his bathroom. He still has his painkillers from when he broke his arm, so I grab the bottle from the counter, fill a glass of water, and then head back to his room. He's sitting now, but his eyes are still closed. I move to sit in front of him, bending one leg and tucking it under my body.

"Here," I say.

His eyes open and he awards me with a grateful smile. "What would I do without you?" he asks, taking the glass and the pills from me.

What _would_ he do without me?

What would _I_ do without _him_?

It's something I've been forced to think about. I can't even imagine what my life would be like if we weren't friends. I don't _want_ to imagine a life where we didn't know each other the way we do. I realized today I _need_ him, in a way I've never needed anyone else before, and it's terrifying.

He downs the entire glass and then sets everything on his nightstand.

"Better?" I ask.

He raises his eyebrows. "I just took it."

"I meant the water, silly," I say, slapping his knee.

"Give it a minute," he says quietly, as he lies back down, his legs moving to rest on mine. Maybe he doesn't know just how heavy he is, because I'm forced to scoot out from under him, and shift to his right side.

Once I'm settled, I take a moment to study him. It's amazing, really, how much he's changed since we first started this thing. Both on the inside and the outside. I don't even realize his eyes are open, until he clears his throat.

"What?" he asks, noticing the way I've been staring.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighs. "I'd like to talk about _anything_ else."

I take a moment to think about a safe topic of discussion, and eventually decide on something relatively safe. "Uh, what would constitute a 'perfect' day for you?" I ask.

He regards me for a moment, clearly surprised. "I don't know," he says. "My days are generally filled with a lot of swimming, Bella."

I frown. "Indulge me, Cullen."

He sighs, biting his bottom lip as he thinks. "I think I'd like to spend the day doing nothing," he says. "Watching movies, eating pizza, and drinking milkshakes."

I smile slightly. "But we do that all the time, Edward," I remind him.

His eyes meet mine. "Then you've answered your own question."

I try not to react to the fact he's just stated that _I'm_ a part of his perfect day, but I can feel my traitorous blush blooming over my cheeks.

"What is _your_ perfect day?" he asks.

"Would you be offended that my perfect day involves me and only me?"

He laughs lightly. "It's _your_ perfect day, Bella. Why would I be offended?"

I feel suitably ridiculous, but I push through it anyway. "I think I'd like to take a day off, drive out somewhere, and just enjoy the sunshine and nature. Maybe read a book." I smile slightly. "I guess I'd just want to be outside. I miss the sun."

"I don't think I've ever experienced a lot of sun," he says. "We've lived in only cold-ish places. Vancouver, Toronto... Seattle."

I just nod.

"I guess then, if you look at it that way, you don't quite miss what you've never had," he mumbles, and I figure he's thinking about his mother just from the faraway look in his eyes.

I continue talking. "I was born in Columbus, you know, but we lived in Phoenix for six months just after Riley was born so my dad could finish law school. I don't remember much of it, but I do recall it being very hot. I was so not ready for this Seattle weather."

He smiles at me. "Don't lie, you love it."

"Is that what you think, huh, Cullen?"

He nods. "You're usually _here_ when it's raining."

I return his smile, and we look at each other for a long, charged moment. I eventually and forcibly break the silence because everything about today is a little too much for me to handle. Even as I think about the reasons why, the next question that leaves my mouth doesn't help at all. "Where would you go on your honeymoon?" I ask, and, from his facial expression, I can tell it's something he's never really thought about before.

"Uh."

"Anywhere in the world, Edward."

He takes a moment to think. "I don't want to be boring."

"Just tell me," I say. "I already know you like vanilla milkshakes and pepperoni pizza. Where would you go?"

He lets out a light laugh, and my stomach does a flip-flop. "Okay, just, exotically, I'd probably want to go to Bali," he tells me. "But, really, I'd want to go to Vancouver. I know it's lame, but I like the idea of taking my new wife there, and experiencing it all with her."

I look at him for a long moment. "It's really special to you, isn't it?"

He nods. "It is, yeah. It's one of my favorite places on Earth."

"Why?" I ask. I'm definitely not going to pass up this opportunity to learn more about Edward's childhood. He's in a very talkative mood. Maybe it's the drugs.

"Why," he echoes, visibly thinking. "I can't be sure if it's to do with the actual city," he starts. "I just - it's the last place I truly felt like I belonged. I mean, I know I was only there until I was four, and I shouldn't even remember much, but I do. It's the last place I felt truly secure; safe, loved unconditionally and happy." He can't look at me. "I reckon it's also the place where I fell in love with the water. I dream about the waves sometimes."

There's something about the way he talks about Vancouver that makes me want to go there, just to feel what he's describing. I don't think there's a person in this world who wouldn't want to feel happy, safe, secure and loved.

"Where would you go?" he asks me, returning the question.

I barely wait a moment before I respond. I know exactly where I'm going, and my groom has no say in the matter. "Kenya."

He smiles at me. "There you go again with your _sun_. Some of us get sunburnt, you know?"

"It's why they invented sunblock, Edward."

"But then why do they have indoor pools, Bella?"

This conversation makes absolutely no sense, but it puts me at ease. I don't miss the way he relaxes at the sound of our ridiculous banter as well.

We're okay.

Well, maybe we're not right now, but we will be.

* * *

Edward's smile practically splits his face when I see him after his first day back at training. It's measured training, of course, but he's definitely at his happiest when he's in the water. Despite his good mood, there's still something _off_ with him, though I can't put my finger on what it is.

Edward's father placed Felix on Edward duty, which basically means the older man is responsible for ensuring Edward strictly follows the new training program, and that he eats properly. He definitely won't be able to sneak anything in or out without Felix knowing. He pretends to be irritated by it, but I know him well enough to know he's secretly relieved.

His mood gets progressively better as the days go by, and I'm just glad to have him back. The car accident did something to him, but he's slowly coming back to us. At least, that's what Esme says whenever I see her. I don't even want to think about what watching your son work himself ragged does to a parent.

Angela's been keeping an extra close eye on him as well. As soon as she found out he collapsed from exhaustion, she's been keeping track of everything he eats when he's in the dining hall. Any other time, I would find it annoying, but I'm secretly relieved. I'm as much invested in his food maintenance as she is, though I'll never say so.

"That's a lot of pasta," she comments from time to time, and I can only laugh. The boy really does love his pasta.

And _I'm_ the one with Italian ancestors.

"Come on," I tell her. "I need to visit the bathroom before class."

She slides my tray towards her, and the two of us see out our routine. I'm aware of the look Alice gives me, but I ignore it. She's been asking a lot of questions with her eyes these days, and it's starting to annoy me. Clearly, she sees something, so why won't she just come out and say it?

Mr. Banner's classroom is still empty when I enter, which is a relief. I just need a moment. I guess I've been so focused on Edward's health, and on his happiness, that I've missed a few things with regards to Jake and my family - and myself. I told myself I was going to get my priorities in order, but I've done a bang-up job of that so far.

I move to sit down at our station and take out my phone. The text I send is simple. I miss my boyfriend, and I want to see him. That, at least, is the truth. I _do_ miss him, and I _do_ want to see him. I ignore the part of my brain that tells me that I don't miss him nearly enough as I probably should.

Jake and I make plans as the class starts to fill up after the bell. Apparently, he misses me too. I wonder if he's just telling me what he thinks I want to hear, or if he means it. He's busy, and I'm busy. We're going to have to make time for each other if this is ever going to work, and I'm pretty sure I do want it to -

"Guess where I'm going."

I look up from my phone at the smiling face of Edward Cullen. He's standing over our table, sporting that mischievous look he sometimes wears. "Where are you going?" I ask.

He spins around me, and settles himself into his seat. "Columbus, Ohio," he says, and my eyes widen.

"What?"

He nods, his smile growing. "I'm _going_."

I blink. "I'm confused."

"I just got clearance to go, Bella," he says, leaning towards me. "I'm going to the National Championships. I mean, the doctors gave me clearance, but only for four events. Kevin thinks I should just focus on those from now on anyway, which I think is a good idea. I don't feel as if I'm up to my best, but I'm - " he stops. "What? What's wrong?"

"You're going to Ohio?" I whisper.

He gives me a curious look before he nods. "I am, yeah," he says. "Maybe I can even meet your family while I'm down there."

My eyes widen at the thought, and he leans back.

"Unless... you don't want me to," he says carefully, his eyebrows rising.

"It's not that I don't want you to meet my _family_ , Edward," I tell him, forcing my voice to remain even. "It's the _other_ people I'm worried about."

It takes a moment for realization to hit him, and his features soften. "Are you referring to the maybe reason why your family left Ohio?" he asks, his voice soft.

I nod.

His hand reaches for mine, but he stops himself. We're at school. We're not supposed to be the kind of friends who _touch_. I think he growls in annoyance, but I can't be sure. "Okay," he says. "I won't meet your family."

The idea of him meeting them does warm my heart, but I can't help the fear I feel. I've tried so hard to keep Seattle separate from Ohio. The last thing I want is for what happened there to sully this life the Swan family is living here.

"No," I say. "You should. They'd probably _love_ you."

He looks skeptical. "Bella?"

"Edward."

He smiles at me. "Why do you think they'd love me?"

"Because I lo - " I stop. Nope. No no no. We're not going anywhere near _that_ word. Things are complicated enough.

Edward leans towards me again. "I'm sorry, Swan. I didn't quite catch that. What did you say?"

I shake my head.I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with the idea of him being in Columbus.

"Did you finish the write-up?" I ask, trying to distract him. It's the second one this month, and I can already tell Mr. Banner is gearing up for a busy last few weeks before Christmas Break.

He also shakes his head. "Don't change the subject," he says, wagging a finger at me. "Why would they love me?"

I swallow audibly. "Edward."

"They'd love me because of my name?"

My eyes narrow.

"Or... They'd love me because _you_ love me?" He says it so smugly, and so sweetly, that the breath in my throat catches. Seven months on and, yes, I feel something strong enough to call 'love.'

"Don't flatter yourself," I say anyway, because I don't think I'm ready to bring _that_ emotion into our friendship quite yet. I'm scared of it, really, because it can quickly consume a person.

I should know.

Heck, I haven't even told Jake I love him. The thing is I don't know if I do but, even if I did, I don't think I would _tell_ him. It'd reveal too much; it'd give him too much power.

"When do you go?" I ask.

"First week of December," he replies easily.

"Isn't that, like, yesterday?"

He nods, as he settles deeper into his seat and takes out his books. We're in the middle of cell biology right now, which is _a lot_ , but still very interesting. Edward took some time to catch up with the work after he collapsed, but now he's fully up to speed.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks, looking at me again.

I know he knows he can tell me anything.

His voice drops in volume. "I _need_ to see Kate," he says. "All of it kind of feels unreal at the moment, you know? Like, it's just this thing that's a part of my life that isn't _real_." He frowns, looking a little disturbed. "I don't think I'm a very good boyfriend, to be honest."

I have no idea what to say to him.

"So, I was banking on these Championships to see her," he continues; "which I think is part of the reason why I was so distraught." He runs a hand through his hair, but he doesn't say anything more, which prompts me to ask the question.

"And now how do you feel?"

His brow furrows. "I guess I'm excited and, uh, relieved."

It's as if he's just catching himself, and he doesn't like what he's feeling.

"Nervous," he adds. "I _need_ to see her, but I'm not sure I _want_ to." He lets out a humorless laugh. "We should probably talk about this later."

I don't disagree with him as we settle in for class. He's a little distracted, and I suspect it's to do with the talk about Kate. If he claims not to be a good boyfriend, then what kind of girlfriend am I? When I'm with Edward, I don't _feel_ as if I'm in a relationship with _someone else_ , and my significant other is actually _in_ the city.

This whole thing is just so messed up, but I can't bring myself to do anything about it. Going back to not being Edward's friend is not an option.

We don't get around to talking about Kate. Well, he doesn't talk to _me_ about it, but I learn he has talked to somebody about it from Angela the very next day.

"Okay," Angela says, dropping down into her seat at our table in the dining hall. Her tray makes a significant sound, and her plate just has fries doused in ketchup. Nutritious. Also, it's something we don't see eye to eye about. The sauce is supposed to go _on the side_ ; not all over the fries. Seriously.

"Okay, what?" Alice asks.

Angela looks distraught, borderline devastated. "I just found out the worst news."

"Is this about Edward Cullen?" Alice presses.

"When isn't it?" Jasper asks, sounding sour.

I don't know what his problem _is_ with Edward, and I've never asked. After the night of my birthday dinner, he'd been quiet about Edward. I think he was uncomfortable with talking badly about Edward's not being there when he'd been in an accident on his way to the restaurant.

"This is important," Angela says. "So, I was sitting behind Jessica and Lauren, right? And they were discussing what they'd heard Edward Cullen and Rosalie Hale talking about..." she trails off, her eyes widening. She suddenly turns to look at me. "Did you know Edward Cullen has a girlfriend?"

My eyes widen. "Wha - "

Her eyes narrow. "You did, didn't you?"

I blink. "He may have mentioned her once or twice," I inform her.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I look at Alice and Jasper for help, but they offer me none. I'm not even surprised. "I don't know," I admit. "I didn't want to break your heart." God, Edward is going to find this bloody hilarious when I tell him.

Also.

Well, logically, I know Edward talks to other people, but I can't help but wonder if he talks about the things he talks to me about with other people. I feel something ugly twist inside of me, and I forcefully push it down. It is _not_ jealousy. It's not.

Angela glares at me for a moment. "And then, well, I went onto _Facebook_ to check. I needed to make sure, and I found all these things about a girl named Katherine Kincade." She shakes her head. "Is that her?"

I nod.

"Do you know what she looks like?" she asks me.

I saw her on TV, during the Youth Olympic Games, but I can't recall ever paying enough attention. I didn't know I was supposed to be looking at her when Edward was right there.

Angela uses my silence to pull out her phone and open her _Facebook_ App. "Look," she says, practically shoving the phone in my face. "She's so pretty; it's not even fair. _And_ she's a senior."

I take the phone from her and move it away so I can see properly. I immediately wish I didn't. "Oh," I say.

Angela nods. "What did I say?" she asks pointedly. "I mean, if you were to type 'beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed bombshell' into _Google_ ; her picture would come up right next to Jasper's."

I laugh, because I won't allow myself to feel anything else.

"Thank you," Jasper says with a smirk, and Alice just smiles.

I'm a little uncomfortable with all this talk about Edward and Kate. He was right when he said it doesn't feel real, because it doesn't. The reality is he has a girlfriend, and I have a boyfriend. He _liked_ me a long time ago, but that's gone now. It shouldn't even be a problem.

But it feels like it is.

I'm _making_ it one.

A big one.

When I get home, I sit down at my desk and consider what I'm about to do. _I_ don't have _Facebook_. I did once, but I got rid of it before the move to Seattle. I didn't want anyone to be able to find me. I didn't want them to have access to me.

Riley doesn't have an account either. As my brother, he decided he didn't want to deal with _it_ either, though I suspect that's going to change soon. As a freshman, I figure he's going to have to embrace social media if he's going to survive.

I know I should feel bad, but I'm ignoring everything as I open _Facebook_ , and log in using Angela's credentials. She's a little too trusting for her own good, and she told me her password because she was worried she might forget it.

I haven't.

I reason this is okay because I'm not actually going to _do_ anything. I'm just going to look.

Also, it isn't as if she hasn't used _Facebook_ on my computer before. I go straight to Edward's profile, which I suspect is a frequent search of Angela's. She's a professional at 'stalking' Edward.

His profile picture is one of him and Seth in their USA tracksuits. His hair is its usual mess, his arm is draped over Seth's shoulders, and he's wearing the sort of smile that makes my heart stutter. I think I can count on only one hand the number of times I've seen him truly _happy_ , and I think this is one of those times.

He doesn't post all that much, but others do. Seth, Jane, Rosalie, Emmett, Jared, Leah, Carmen, and _Kate_. Katherine Kincade. My cursor hovers over her name for a moment as I contemplate my next move. I don't even know what I'm doing.

I click anyway.

Angela showed me her picture, but I'm still caught off guard. It's a candid shot of her and a little boy, laughing at something, and it just irritates me. Of course, she would look that good without even trying.

Jesus.

I scroll down her wall, and her most recent post is surprising and also not at the same time. I absently note she should probably check her privacy settings, before I realize she's a public figure... well, she's going to be, if she keeps swimming.

It's a picture of her and Edward. They're posing, him behind her, with his arms wrapped around her waist. They're both smiling, and I have to squash the irrational fear that she'll end up taking him away from me.

.

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)** with **Edward Cullen**  
 _I get to see this handsome boy soon! I'm counting down the days... can't hardly wait :D_

There is a line of comments below it, and like a billion likes.

 **Edward Cullen** _: This handsome boy can't wait either! How I've missed you :*_

 **Seth Miller** _: Ew. Gross._

 **Edward Cullen** _: Shut up, Loser. Just because you're single doesn't mean you have to spread the hate._

 **Seth Miller** _: Should I expect to find a scrunchie on our room door?_

 **Edward Cullen** _: Who's being gross now?_

 **Edward Cullen** _: How do you even know what a scrunchie is, pansy?_

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate):** _I feel like all I do is tell you boys to find other places to have these unnecessary conversations. Seriously. Stop._

 **Edward Cullen** : _Sorry, Sweets. We will have our inappropriate conversation elsewhere, won't we,_ **Seth Miller** _?_

 **Edward Cullen** : _Ten days and counting_.

 **Seth Miller** : _Sigh. Fine. We will_.

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)** : _Thank you! Love you both :*_

.

I blink. Love? Who said anything about Love? I shift in my seat, my discomfort from earlier rising to the surface.

This is a terrible idea.

I read on.

.

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)**  
 _Baby brother's first tooth is OUT! Hopefully, the tooth fairy will be generous ;)_

.

So, the little boy in her profile picture is her little brother.

.

 **Garrett Michael Smith** to **Katherine Kincade (Kate)**  
 _John's ditching me at the Championships. Dean's hygiene is suspect. So... be my roommate, please? ;) Haha just kidding,_ **Edward Cullen** _would definitely kill me!_

Edward commented on this post as well, and I can't stop myself.

 **Edward Cullen:** _Don't you know it ;) What about_ **Justin Coles**? _We both know how much he_ _loves you!_

 **Justin Coles _:_** _Edward and your spice. You're lucky you're all the way across the country right now._

 **Edward Cullen _:_** _I don't know what you're talking about ;)_

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)** _: Seriously? There isn't anywhere else you could be having this unnecessary conversation other than my wall?_

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)** _: Kidding. But please go.  
_

.

There isn't a reply to her comment, so I imagine they did continue their conversation somewhere else, or not at all. I take a moment to recall if Edward ever told me about a Justin. It comes to me a minute later, when I remember that Garrett is the one who replaced Justin on the Youth Olympic Games team. Damn. Edward _is_ spicy!

The next post is Edward writing on her wall.

.

 **Edward Cullen** to **Katherine Kincade (Kate)**  
 _Okay. I stand corrected. Parenthood IS the best new show of this year (though The Walking Dead is right up there). I may or may not have cried like a baby in this last episode. So, thank you for that._  
 _Also, I miss you quite terribly. Tell me again, when am I seeing you?  
_

.

I feel as if I'm getting access to an Edward he's never shown me. Sure, he's mischievous, playful and funny, but this feels different. He's hidden so much of his relationship with Kate from me, and I wonder if that's by design.

Why would he do that?

I sigh.

Why _wouldn't_ he?

I hide my relationship with Jake from him as much as he hides his with Kate.

.

 **Katherine Kincade (Kate)**  
 _Casual visit to the Washington Monument. School trips really are the best: educational AND fun._

Edward, once again, commented on this post.

 **Edward Cullen:** _My cute little nerd :* Sounds like you're having a blast - I'm a little jealous. Come visit me :P  
_

.

I read a few more posts, words exchanged and sweet nothings, before I lean back and try to figure out what the problem is. There _must_ be because this horrid feeling that I'm sick - like, let's bar-them-from-proceedings kind of sick - just won't leave me.

Something is wrong.

With me.

I take a deep, calming breath, move my mouse to log out, and exit the window. Another breath later, I reach for my phone, pull up his contact and call.

He answers a moment later. "Babe? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," I lie. Then: "Do you want to come over?"


	12. My Home Away From Home

**Chapter Twelve: My Home Away From Home  
**

 **EPOV**

I think I did something wrong.

Maybe I said something, who knows? For some reason I can't seem to figure out and, despite what she continually says, I know Bella's pulled away from me. It's unnoticeable if you don't go looking, but I see it. I _feel_ it. Something's wrong with _us_ , but I don't know what.

I reason it's because I mentioned Ohio. She's made it very clear to me that she wants to keep whatever happened in Ohio separate from her new life here in Seattle, and I'm just messing with that. I also made the executive decision I won't visit her family, because it clearly makes her uncomfortable, even though she won't say so.

I wish she would, though. I wish she was comfortable enough with me to tell me what we both know she wants to. This is why I'm wholly confused by her words when I see her for Biology on the Tuesday I'm supposed to be leaving for Columbus.

It's unlike her to get here later than I do but I guess there's a first time for everything. I already have my books out when she arrives, sporting a strange smile on her face. It's nothing I've seen before, and I have to ignore the vicious feeling at the mere thought that Jake put it there.

He didn't.

Technically, _I_ didn't either, but I like to think I did.

"So," she says, resting her elbows on the tabletop. "When are you free?"

I frown. "Uh..."

"My gran makes the best pecan pie in the world," she tells me. "She says she's making a special one, just for you."

My frown deepens. "What?"

"Do you think you'll be free for dinner tomorrow night?"

It's the night before the start of the Championships. I don't think Kevin will be too keen on my spending it out and about - or eating pie, for that matter. "I think I can do lunch," I tell her, somewhat warily. I think I might have overstepped by just _assuming_ I would meet her family. I don't want her to think I _expect_ to meet her family. We're not even in a relationship.

But.

Still, Bella nods. "Lunch it is, then," she says, taking out her phone and sending a text to, I assume, her grandmother. "I'm also telling her you're allergic to peanuts. She _loves_ peanuts, and I really don't want to get a call telling me my gran killed my best friend."

I can't help my grin. Her humor has eased the tension in my shoulders. Maybe I've been imagining things, and we're actually okay.

"Also," she says, turning back to look at me; "you're probably going to meet my aunts and uncles and cousins and, just, everyone... They can be a bit _much_. You might get overwhelmed at first, but they're really very sweet - just unable to curb their own excitement, which is going to be through the roof when they meet you."

I raise my eyebrows. "Uh, why is that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Jeez, Edward, are you fishing for a compliment or what?"

I must have lost her somewhere because I balk at her accusation. "What?"

Despite my alarm, she just grins. "Have you met yourself?"

"Why, yes, Swan, I have," I say. "I do believe I've known myself the longest, in fact."

She rolls her eyes again. She's really a master at it, I'm telling you. "All I'm saying is that you should probably expect to be a _hit_ ," she warns me. "And they'll ask a lot of questions about Seattle."

I look at her, sensing some of her discomfort. "I won't tell them anything you don't want me to."

She blinks. "That's not the part that's bothering me," she admits. "It's more what you may or may not find out while you're there."

I wait a beat before I hold up three fingers. "I won't go looking. Scout's Honor."

She gives me a quizzical look. "Were you even a Boy Scout?"

I shake my head. "Swimmer, remember," I say with a shrug. "But I think it could still apply. I'm just going to see the family that _made_ part of who you are, and possibly find some embarrassing baby pictures to tease you about when I get back." I'm rewarded with a significant glare, and that's all our conversation amounts to as Mr. Banner calls for our attention.

We don't get to do much talking after that, and then, she's going to English, and I just watch her go. This feels like an important step in our friendship, though I can't quite pinpoint why that could be.

In French, I sit behind her and try to focus on what Madame Pince is saying. I was all for meeting her family, but now I'm nervous about it. I mean, what if they don't like me? What if I make a bad impression and they tell Bella, and she decides she doesn't want to be friends with me anymore?

It takes me a moment to recognize I'm being ridiculous. Of course, they're going to love me.

Hah.

When school lets out, I head straight home. I don't really have time for a session at the pool, which unsettles me, but Kevin did have to remind me I shouldn't push too hard before the races. I force myself to listen because I ended up passing out the last time I didn't.

Esme is bustling around the house, practically chasing after Peter as she tries to get him to put on his cleats. I can't help my laugh at the sight, and she comes to a stop in front of me, faking displeasure.

"And just _what_ is so funny, young man?"

"Nothing," I say.

"That's what I thought," she says, smiling knowingly. "Are you all packed? Your father should be here in a half hour."

I nod. "Just a few final things," I tell her.

"Do those few final things include your homework?"

I grimace. "Of course," I say sweetly.

She reaches out to touch my cheek. "Hey," she coos; "just because I run around chasing after those two monsters all day; doesn't mean I won't chase after you."

I can tell it's said teasingly and I should just roll with it, but the little boy in me feels it. After all we've been through this year, the sentence feels monumental. Maybe she sees something in my face, because she's quick to pull me into a hug I wasn't so sure I wanted until her arms are wrapped around me.

"Oh, Edward," she whispers, just holding me in a way I can only describe as motherly.

When she lets go, she saves me from the horror of embarrassment at being caught being so darn emotional by sending me up to my room. I smile gratefully, reach up to peck her cheek and then sprint up the stairs to my room. My little suitcase is on my bed where I left it this morning, almost full. I pack up my toiletries and various electronics, change into something more comfortable, zip up and then drag everything back down the stairs.

I've just set my backpack down when my father walks through the front door.

"Mr. Cullen," he says, raising his eyebrows. "Fancy seeing you here."

I roll my eyes. He can be such a 'Dad' sometimes.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

I nod. "Just waiting for you."

He sets down his briefcase on the little table in the foyer. "Give me ten minutes."

"Ten is too long," I whine.

He smiles, his eyes wrinkling at the sides. It's the first sign he _is_ getting older. "Nine, then."

I sigh dramatically. "I suppose that will have to do."

He bumps me with his shoulder as he walks past me. "Eat something before we leave," he says. "And make sure you use the toilet."

Does he think I'm four years old or something? Despite my apparent reluctance, I still do as he says and meet him back in the foyer fourteen minutes later. Esme is forcing him to take off his tie, but he's fighting her. Some things won't change.

Peter finally has his cleats on, and I imagine Liam is somewhere doing something productive with his time.

Esme sees us off, wishing her 'boys' luck. It's the first I've really considered what it must be like for her living in a house with just boys. I wonder if she misses the company of other women because, as far as I know, her circle of friends really consists of other mothers from the twins' school and colleagues from work. I can't help thinking about what her life was like before the twins were born; before she even came into our lives.

I'll have to ask her one of these days.

Felix is driving us to the airport, and so my father and I sit next to each other in the backseat. He's busy on his phone, probably making sure the offices don't burn to the ground in his absence. He works with good people, so I think it's in safe hands. I mean, Esme's still around.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I immediately reach for it. It's a message from Bella, and her words are enough to make my heart smile.

 **Beaufort: Okay, so I may have mentioned to my gran that you're a sucker for seafood pasta and since she's the OG, well, just... PREPARE YOURSELF! Also, have a safe flight and let me know when you arrive. I already miss you! X**

* * *

If I thought that Bella was exaggerating when she warned me about her family; she wasn't.

Grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins a plenty; I think my ears are bleeding. My father dropped me off at Bella's grandmother's house straight after morning training, and it's been non-stop ever since. I've had a headache for the past forty minutes, and it shows no sign of receding.

Marie Higginbotham is rather scary and intimidating at first, but she's really quite lovely after you peel back the layers. I think she had her reservations about me - some boy who's _friends_ with her granddaughter - but I'm convinced I've won her over.

I've also eaten so much, I'm starting to get sleepy. If I thought Bella's mother's pasta was to die for; Marie's is to _live_ for.

After the family exhausts themselves asking questions, Marie politely - not really - sends them to their respective homes. I didn't even know people could have so much family in one place. My father's family is spread out over two continents. And, well, so is Esme's. I don't think we've ever really all been in one place at any one time. I think I'd get a shock if that were ever to happen.

Just when I see the opportunity to mention it's probably time for me to leave, Marie shows me the mother-load of all mother-loads: the prized photo albums.

Oh, my God.

Well, well.

Bella Swan.

That kid was so adorable, my teeth even hurt. Marie even allows me to snap a few pictures with my phone and I add a pretty candid photo to the contact ID, Beaufort. Bella's pretty unrecognizable, but I just know she's going to kill me if she sees it.

We go through the years, Marie absently telling me little stories here and there. I learn things about Bella she never would have told me. Like, she first learned how to ride a bicycle when she was eight, and her oldest cousin on her mother's side, Frances, was the one to teach her how to tie her shoelaces. They're relatively unimportant things, but I love every one of them.

They're important to _me_.

They help me paint a truer, more complete, picture of Bella in my head.

When we get to the pictures of an older Bella, it's heartbreaking to see that her happy-go-lucky smile has faded. The pictures are fewer, and even I can tell something went wrong somewhere along the line.

"I don't know how much she's told you," Marie begins.

"Nothing," I'm quick to say, making sure she doesn't reveal anything. I don't want to betray Bella that way. "She's told me nothing."

"I suspected as much," she says sadly. "She had a rough time of it here, near the end," she tells me anyway. "I worry about her. I worry about all of them. They're my family, and they're just so far away. I worry."

I nod in understanding, even though I don't think I really do. It's probably because I've never felt connected to my own.

"But then, if my family has managed to find people like you, Edward; it makes me worry a little less."

I just stare at her.

"She's been through a lot," she says. "But I'd rather she be there, safe from all of this, than wish she were home with me."

I'm lost.

I'm _so_ lost, but I still nod.

"She doesn't like to tell me how she's really doing," she explains. "I have to find out from her parents, but even they don't really know. If she hasn't told you, then I doubt you'd _really_ know either."

I want to assure her that I _do_ know all about how Bella's doing, but I'd be lying.

We're liars, you see; to each other and to ourselves.

"Just be there when she's ready," Marie says.

"Of course," I automatically say. "I'm not going anywhere."

Marie pats my arm softly. "My dear, don't you see, that could very well be the problem."

Before I can ask what that means, she's turned away and begun to dig in her bag for something. A moment later, she pulls out a phone. It always fascinates me when old people are proficient with their own phones, and I can just watch helplessly as she dials a number and puts the phone on speaker.

I don't have to ask to know whom she's calling.

"Hi, Grandma," I hear Bella answer a few rings later, and I automatically smile. It's odd how I always feel like she's talking to me, even when she isn't.

"My darling," her grandmother says, and her smile matches mine. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, and how are you?" Bella replies, and I wonder if she can hear the untruth in Bella's voice like I can. I once read that a person tells an average of four lies a day, with "I'm fine" being the most common. Bella's just used up one of hers. I wonder how many she'll tell when _I_ talk to her. Or worse, how many _I'll_ tell. I don't know what it is, but I feel as if all we've been doing is lying to each other.

About so many things.

More importantly, we've been lying about our feelings.

I'm still waiting for her to tell me the truth of what she feels about the fact I'm here in Ohio, with the family she left behind for whatever reason I told myself I would never ask about. I've toyed with the idea of actually doing it, but I eventually decided against it. Ohio _is_ something that hangs over us, but we're ignoring it.

It's not healthy at all.

One of Bella's questions catches my attention. "So, you've met Edward then?"

"Oh, I did," Marie says enthusiastically. "He's lovely, Bella," she adds, risking a look at me. "So handsome, as well. Reminds me of your grandfather when he was younger. I think Natalie has a little crush on him."

"I don't blame her," Bella says, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. What? "Most girls I know end up having crushes on him."

Oh.

She's talking about Angela.

Of course, she is.

"She didn't overwhelm him, did she?" Bella asks.

Marie glances at me. "He definitely handled himself very well," she says cryptically. "It's obvious his heart's already taken."

Bella is silent for the longest time, and I try to keep the alarm off my face. I made sure not to mention Kate, and I don't think I gave anything away during lunch.

Marie still looks a little mischievous. "I know you mentioned he was a gentleman, Bella, but you really are a very lucky girl."

 _Oh, shit_.

Bella gasps. "Gran! I _told_ you Edward and I aren't dating. He's just a friend."

Marie drops her gaze. "Are you sure about that?" she asks, and I realise this woman is full of spice. She wants to create drama, and I've come to the conclusion that she and Jane would definitely get along.

"I - " Bella starts and then stops, which makes me raise my eyebrows. "I'm sure," she eventually says.

Marie doesn't believe her and, frankly, I don't either.

"I'm sure," Bella says again. "We're just friends. Best friends."

I find myself nodding. Bella's right. She's totally right. We're friends. _Just_ friends. _Best_ friends.

Marie looks confused for the longest moment, and she looks at me a few times. "But - but, if you'd hear the way he talks about you; you'd think - "

"Gran," Bella cuts her off. Then: "Is - _Jesus_ \- is Edward still there? Oh my God, can he _hear_ us?"

Marie winks at me. "Of course he's not, Sweetheart."

"Edward?" Bella calls out. "I swear to God, Edward, if you're there right now, I'm going to - "

"To what?" I ask, and Bella's answering _shriek_ is so worth it. "What are you going to do, Bella?"

She squeaks this time, and I hear her mutter something incoherent before she hangs up and the line goes dead.

Marie looks at me, amusement in her features. "I'm really in trouble now."

I nod. "So am I."

Marie sets her phone down and gives me all of her attention. "Are you _sure_ you're just friends?" she asks.

"She has a boyfriend," I say; "and I have a girlfriend."

Marie shakes her head, her eyes narrowing. "That is not an answer to my question."

I swallow nervously. "I - " I hesitate. Just like Bella. "I'm sure," I force out.

Her answering smile is terrifying.

Who's in trouble now?

* * *

I win one silver medal.

It's more than I thought I would claim, but it's still extremely disappointing. I had such a good Youth Olympic Games, just to receive _one_ measly medal. I mean, sure, this is a senior competition, but it still hurts. It hurts, and it's something my family doesn't seem to understand. Neither does Kate, apparently. I _actually_ won a medal, and that should mean something.

"At least you won a medal, Edward," Kate says.

I mean, the way she says it makes it sound so simple. My brain registers the logical side of it, but it's what I _feel_. Why isn't she being more understanding? Even a little sympathy would go a long way.

"Some of us made only one final," she adds a moment later, sounding somewhat bitter. I don't think it's anything to do with me, but more to do with disappointment in herself. I'm not going to remind her that we're some of the best swimmers in the country, because I wouldn't want to be reminded of that as if it's some kind of consolation either.

We're both swimmers.

These are feelings we understand.

"Okay," I say, huffing out a breath. "Enough talk about swimming. We have a decision to make. Are we going out for dinner or were you serious about wanting to eat _me_?"

She laughs gloriously, and my face splits into a grin.

We're good together.

I know we are.

"Decide, Miss Kincade, or I shall decide for you," I say.

Kate decides pretty quickly after that by leaning over to kiss me. Her mouth is hot and demanding, and there's something almost desperate about the way she tugs on my t-shirt, lifting it up and over my head. It's been a strange few days, but we survived it, and here we are. My studying for finals has been abandoned, and this girl has _all_ my attention.

What feels like hours later, Kate pulls back and lets out a long, satisfied breath. She's as scantily dressed as I am, her hands just extricating themselves from inside my boxers.

"I have to tell you something," she says, rolling over onto her back and rewarding me with a lovely view.

"Okay...?"

"I sent out applications for college last week," she tells me.

I blink. "Oh?"

"They're all on the East Coast."

"Oh."

She turns her head to look at me. "I didn't tell you."

"No, you didn't."

She sighs. "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

For the longest time, we just stare at each other. "I don't know, but are you? It would make sense if you were."

" _Why_ didn't you tell me?" I ask. "I mean, I know it's your decision and all, but you didn't tell me, and you did that on purpose, didn't you? I don't understand why."

She reaches out to touch my chest. "I really like you, Edward, and I'm in this, I am. It's just, well, I was always going to stay on the East Coast, and I wasn't going to let any romantic relationship influence that."

I blink. I guess I can understand that, but I can't help feeling slighted. I should have been told anyway. Not necessarily consulted, but _told_.

"Are you mad?" she asks again, her fingers moving distractedly over my skin.

"No," I say. I'm not _mad_. How can I be?

I'm hurt, maybe, but I'm convinced I don't have any right to be.

* * *

"I know we said we were going to skip the whole Christmas presents thing this year," I tell Bella; "so I _made_ you something."

Bella just stares at me for the longest time; it's as if I've just sprouted a second head. Maybe I have. I feel as if I have. My head is throbbing, and my left shoulder feels as if I ran into a brick wall.

"What?" Bella asks.

"I didn't actually _buy_ anything," I reiterate. "I _made_ it."

She rolls over to look at me and slowly sits up. She's in a bit of a mood because it's that time of the month, so I'm doing all I can not to piss her off or say anything that may or may not get me in trouble. I saw her fly off at Jake over the phone earlier, and I definitely don't want to be on the receiving end of one of those Bella Beatdowns.

We've also just finished writing our exams, and both my mind and body are exhausted.

"But," she starts; "I don't have anything for you."

"That's okay," I tell her; "I have everything I need. But I _do_ want to give this to you. Just, you know, try not to laugh or whatever."

"What is it?"

"Toss me your phone," I tell her.

She hesitates for just a moment, before she chucks her phone at me, underarm. I just about manage to catch it, fumbling slightly and Bella awards me with an amused look.

"What?" I ask innocently. "I'm a swimmer. We don't need good hand-eye coordination."

She just shakes her head, and I turn away, plugging her phone into my computer. I'm relieved to find I'm actually able to add the playlist I made to her phone. It doesn't take long, and I feel a little embarrassed as I eject and unplug it. I don't throw it back at her because my throwing skills are probably worse than my catching ones. Instead, I stand, walk over to my bed and hand the phone to her, saying nothing, and then return to my desk to busy myself with nonsensical things.

"What did you do?" she asks, studying her phone.

I don't respond. I don't even turn to look at her, pretending as if I haven't heard her.

She recognizes that, I guess, because she doesn't ask again. I can hear her searching, checking for what foreign thing I must have done to her precious phone that she's dropped something like fifty times, just in the time I've known her. It's battered and bruised, but still functioning. Why would she _ever_ need a new one?

"Oh," she finally says, clearly finding it. "Uh..."

I turn in my chair to look at her.

"Edward, did you make me a playlist?" she asks, her voice low and unassuming.

I swallow nervously. "I did."

She waits a beat before her eyes meet mine. "You made me a playlist." It's a statement, not a question. "That's so..."

"Lame?" I finish for her.

"Cute," she says. "You totally made me a mixtape. That's adorable."

I roll my eyes, ignoring her descriptions. "I guess I kind of want you to have something to remember me by when you're in Ohio," I tell her.

"It's doubtful I'll forget, Cullen," she lets me know, the fingers of her left hand absently moving to fiddle with the _Nemo_ pendant at her neck. I automatically smile at the sight of it, feeling something warm spread through my chest. "But thank you, really - I definitely needed some new music."

I smile. "You're welcome," I say, before turning away again. As I resettle, I'm hit by an odd feeling. I gave her the necklace to remember me by, and now the playlist. I can't determine if I really did it for that, or if I'm somehow _marking_ her in case - in case -

My face falls, and I don't know how she sees it.

"Edward? What's wrong?"

I'm not sure what to say. I don't even know _if_ something is wrong.

"Edward?" she tries again, and I hear her get up off the bed and pad towards me in her socked feet. "What's wrong?" She places a hand on my shoulder, and I tense. "Edward?"

In case -

In case she _leaves_.

In case she goes and never comes back.

I turn to her sharply, and she flinches in surprise. "You're coming back, right?" I ask suddenly.

"What?"

"You're coming back from Ohio, right?"

"Of course," she says slowly, probably sensing that something is wrong. "I live here now, Edward. It's home, and I'm definitely coming back. As much as I complain about this stupid rain; this place has really grown on me. It's quite sad, really." Her hand moves from my shoulder to my hair, and I automatically lean into her touch.

She hugs me to her, and bends to kiss the top of my head. "I promise I'm coming back, Edward Cullen. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Honestly, I don't know if I believe her.

* * *

.

* * *

At the same time Bella goes to Ohio, I go to Toronto. I was reluctant, of course, because it interrupts my training schedule, but my father assured me there would be facilities for me to use when we arrive in Canada. I've always taken my training seriously, but I have a tangible goal now, and I'm not going to let something like the holidays get in the way of that.

It's not exactly something the members of my family fully understand, but they've conceded the argument. I have my ways, and that's that. I'm not ashamed of it. One day, I'll prove everyone wrong _and_ right.

My family definitely isn't as loud and boisterous as Bella's. My father says we're relatively subdued people because we're Canadian. Well, _they're_ Canadian, and they like to bring it up whenever I'm around. It's a topic of contention that I swim for the USA when the only thing that really ties me to the country is my non-existent mother. I wouldn't know how to explain myself if I tried.

Opportunities, maybe.

We _do_ live in Seattle.

Which is wicked close to Canada, anyway.

Most of my extended family lives in Toronto. I haven't been back to Vancouver since the day my father picked me up from school and carted me across the country under the guise of a temporary _holiday_. He left me at my grandparents' house when he went looking for my mother, and I don't think I've ever really been able to forgive him for not allowing me to say goodbye to my childhood.

Anyway.

My father is the baby of the family, with an older brother and an even older sister. Aunt Makenna lives in Toronto as well, with her husband with whom she has two children. Ethan and Nicola are both already in college, with Ethan set to go to law school next Fall. We're really a family of lawyers, and it's only a matter of time before he joins the family business.

My father's brother lives in Prague with his family. It's a bit of a tradition for the two boys of the family to alternate Christmases in Toronto, and this year is Carlisle Cullen's turn. We haven't actually seen Uncle Alistair and his family in more than a year. I don't even know if we'll even see them before next summer, really. They're family I'm not close to. Not that I'm close to my other cousins.

My grandmother is old, though she doesn't seem it. She's pushing eighty and refuses to accept it. I mean, eighty _is_ old, isn't it? My grandfather is one of the reasons I even considered the idea of becoming a swimmer. It was when I was here with them that fateful summer after I turned four years old that I learned all about the Olympics - it was one of the ways my grandfather tried to communicate with me. It didn't work back then, but it definitely sparked something.

I don't think even he knew what he was creating.

When I'm not swimming, I'm being interrogated. I know they love me - we're family, it's kind of a given - but they expect too much. I don't know them, and they don't know me. I guess, _talking_ could help with that but I'm just not up for it.

I exist in a bit of a funk, really, either swimming or on the phone. I have holiday homework to do as well, which I use as a repeated excuse. The only people I make time for are my brothers and my grandparents. Esme isn't particularly settled in our family either. My grandfather adores her, sure, but my grandmother has always regarded her with suspicion. I reason it's because of the mixture of business and pleasure.

Also, the supposed love of my father's life _had_ already left him.

I guess she's just as worried as I am. Get attached and then watch them leave. That part makes sense to me.

Christmas is a quiet affair, save for Peter and Liam, who run around like they've never left home before. It's freezing outside, so their playground is, unfortunately, inside the house. Esme gave up trying to control them.

New Year's is better, somehow. I spend most of the night on _Skype_ talking to Kate. She's enjoying her holiday almost as much as I am. It's a constant string of 'I miss yous' and 'I wish you were heres.' I hate that it's like this, but she surprises me. She usually does.

"So," she says.

"So," I say.

"I've been nagging my parents all year about this," she tells me; "and I've finally convinced them to let me, uh - "

"Let you what?" I ask, leaning forward.

She grins widely. "Well, I was wondering what you're doing the first weekend of January."

I frown. "Uh, I don't know," I admit. "Probably recovering from this disaster of a visit home. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Wondering what?" I press. What is she trying to tell me without actually telling me? "Katherine Kincade, will you just tell me what you're talking about?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Well, you see, I was wondering if you would mind if I visited my boyfriend that weekend?"

I frown. "What?"

She says nothing; just nods.

"No ways?" I ask, suddenly clicking. "Kate? Seriously? You're coming here? Well, Seattle, but yeah. Whoa."

"If you'll have me."

My eyes widen. "If I'll have you," I scoff, shifting to the end of my chair. "When do you arrive? Oh my God! You're coming to Seattle. Holy shit, you're actually coming! This is amazing. This is so awesome!" I realize, belatedly, that I sound like an excited child, but this is such a great Christmas present that I suddenly can't wait to get back to Seattle.

Well, I already couldn't wait, but now it's worse. Like, way worse. I miss her, and it'd be great to see her twice in, uh, six weeks.

What kind of relationship _i_ _s_ that?

It doesn't escape me that it's probably the kind of relationship I want right now. With her right across the country, I'm able to focus on my swimming and on work and on my friends... and on Bella.

Kate.

I need to see Kate.

We need to see each other.

On the first Friday of the new year, I pick her up at the airport in the early afternoon. It's the last Friday before school starts, and I just about manage to convince myself she's the only person with whom I want to spend it.

We end up having one of those ridiculous and cliched reunion scenes when she emerges from the terminal and, wow, I've missed her. We take our sweet old time getting her bag, and then I drive us to Breaking Dawn. I have training, and I suspect she wants to see our fellow swimmers.

We do make out for a few minutes in the parking lot though. Really, how can we not?

"We should go," I say, pulling back to look at her. "Seth has been blowing up my phone since last night. He was very creative with what he would do to me if I hogged you."

"And we don't want that, do we?"

"No, we don't," I agree, before I get out of the car. I grab my gym bag from the trunk, and we head inside, holding hands.

"Kate!" Seth yells as soon as he spots us, and everyone turns to look at him. He doesn't even notice as he bounds towards us.

"Is he always this excitable?" she asks me, absently taking a step towards me.

"Yes," I say. "But he's excited to see you. He's made it very clear I'm not as exciting as you are."

"But you are just as pretty."

I grin at her. "I missed you."

Seth is upon us before she can reply, but I already know what she was going to say. She's made it very clear to me that she's missed me as well. I'm actually surprised I managed to get us here in one piece, given those wandering hands she has.

Kate isn't ready for the force of Seth's hug, and she stumbles backward, forcing me to steady them both.

"Easy," I say. "Seth, please don't kill my girlfriend. She just got here."

He ignores me in favor of dragging Kate towards the bleachers. Apparently, they have a lot to discuss - whatever that means. She's in our town now, and blah blah blah. Jane isn't as animated because she's generally not an animated person, but she is more present, which is a pleasant surprise. Something's different but I can't put my foot on it.

Whatever it is, I can't dwell on it because Kevin gets our attention. It's time to train. I kiss Kate's cheek and then head down to the weight room. I try not to focus on Kate watching me, but I can't help flexing a bit more, knowing that she can see. It's ridiculous, I know, but I can't help it.

Seth teases me about it, but I cream him in the pool.

I usually do.

When our session is over, we disappear into the changing rooms to shower and change for dinner. We're having a group dinner: Kate, Seth, Jane, Emmett, Rose and. Leah said no to dinner - I didn't ask for a reason - and Jared gets back to Seattle only on Sunday. I was not going to invite Alec.

Bella's a whole other story.

I'm relatively calm about it though. I want my friends to meet Kate, but I'm not sure I want Bella to. It'd be too weird; I just know it. So, I'm calm about the decision I've made... right until the moment Seth opens his big, stupid mouth.

"Is Bella coming?" he asks, and I shoot him such a dirty look that he actually cowers. "I guess that's a no then."

"It's just Rose and Emmett," I say, keeping my voice steady, even as Kate and Jane walk in front of us. I can't know if she heard him, but I don't rule it out.

As a result, I'm on edge for the entire dinner. Thankfully, though, Seth doesn't bring up Bella again. He should know better. I mean, he _knows_. He's supposed to be my guy, and then he goes and does this.

My friends talk circles around me. Rose is especially taken with Kate, which I try not to dwell on. Maybe Kate can convince her that dating Royce is a bad idea. Girls have their own language, don't they? But, then again, Rose is a champion at convincing people to see her way, so I'm not holding my breath. She'd wipe the floor with Kate.

But not Bella, I suspect.

I pay for dinner. Well, my father does, and everyone says a brief air-thank-you to Carlisle Cullen before we get up to leave. It was a pleasant evening, nothing too monumental and nothing too diabolical. I've been a little nervous about having her with me in Seattle, having her meet my friends and just _be_ with me. But having her here now makes me feel silly for even worrying.

Kate's hand is cool in mine as we walk to my car after we've bid everyone goodbye. The temperature of her hand is a little odd, but it's part of her. I can't stop myself from thinking that Bella's hands are warm. I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. I'm holding _Kate's_ hand, and I automatically grip it tighter.

She glances at me, her expression equal parts apprehensive and happy.

"Everything okay?" I ask, my voice low.

She waits a beat before she nods. And then it comes.

I should have known.

"So, who's Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Bella, Edward," she says. "Who is she? And why wasn't she invited to dinner?"

I'm going to kill Seth. "She's a friend from school," I tell her. "My lab partner in Biology, actually."

She looks thoughtful for a moment, before she asks the all important question. "Will I get to meet her?"

I take a breath. "I don't think so," I tell her, trying to keep my voice level. "As far as I know, she has a standing date night with her boyfriend on Saturdays."

She regards me for a moment. Then: "Oh, okay."

Maybe she needed to hear that Bella has a boyfriend. I definitely needed to say it. I need the reminder, and she needs the assurance.

This is so fucking messed up.

* * *

Kate and I spend the majority of Saturday alone. We go for brunch at a restaurant downtown before we ride the ferry _four_ times. Apparently, she likes ferries, _and_ kissing me on ferries. We visit a museum, make-out in an exhibit that's being renovated, and then make it back to my house in time to get ready for dinner out on the town, just the two of us. It's nothing fancy, but it's still something.

I like the idea that we're packing so many dates into this one weekend.

Things were a little weird after the whole college application thing, but I'm trying not to dwell. I put myself in her shoes, and I think I might have done the same thing. I mean, we haven't even been dating a full year. How can I expect her to make such big decisions about _her_ future with me in mind when I doubt I would have done the same?

But we're fine now. In the Fall, she'll go somewhere, and I'll start my senior year of high school. She always tells me her friends tease her about being a cradle-robber, which is borderline hilarious. It's not something that bothers either one of us. At the moment, at least. I mean, she _does_ turn eighteen before I turn seventeen.

After dinner, we take a walk. There's a bar Bella mentioned was quite nice, and I suggest checking it out. Kate's all for it; anything to extend this evening, I guess. It's called Reforget, which makes no sense to me, but hey. It seems pretty great even if its name isn't an actual word.

We're met by a waitress when we enter into a dimly lit room with smoke hanging in the air. "Table for two?"

Kate nods, and then kind of hangs back so I can both follow and lead, her hand in mind. She looks comfortable, her eyes taking in the odd decor. I decide I like this look on her and I'm just about to tell her when I spot -

Honestly, just, fuck my life.

Bella... and Jake.

They're sitting at a table just next to the table we're headed towards, and I just know this night isn't going to end well. Bella spots me at around the same time Jake does, and my mind spins with all the possible things that could happen. I watch Jake lean over and ask Bella a question. She shakes her head, before her eyes drift towards Kate and -

Just, fuck.

I swallow audibly, and Kate glances at me.

 _Keep it together, Cullen_.

The waitress walks past Jake and Bella's table, and I reason I should walk past too. But wouldn't that be rude? What do we do? What are we supposed to do? I guess Jake takes the option away from us because he stands. I don't know why, because we don't even _know_ each other.

But, then again, Jake probably _knows_ Bella, and I are lab partners, so it'd be weird if we didn't acknowledge each other.

I come to a stop, almost automatically, and Kate stops too.

"Something wrong?" she asks.

 _Oh, yes, something is very wrong_.

"No," I say anyway. "It's just that Bella's here," I tell her; "with her boyfriend."

She perks up almost immediately. "Oh yeah? So, I _do_ get to meet her?"

"Apparently," I mutter under my breath.

Bella eventually stands as well, though she still looks somewhat shell-shocked. "Edward, hi," she says.

"Hey," I manage to say. "Date night?" I ask, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Indeed," Jake says.

There's a moment of silence, which alerts me to the fact I have to make the introductions now.

I clear my throat. "Kate, this is Bella, and Jake," I say, absently gesturing with my arm. "Uh," I stutter. "Jake, Bella, this is Kate, my girlfriend." I try not to cringe as I say the word. Jake gives Kate an appreciative look, before grinning _knowingly_ at me. What a dog.

"Do you want to join us?" Jake asks, and my alarm registers at the same time Bella's does. Her eyes go wide, and I think she's going to say something, but Kate speaks first.

"We wouldn't want to interrupt," she says, as if she's actually considering it. No. Jesus Christ. Just, no.

"You wouldn't," Jake returns. "We were actually just discussing possibly going on a double date with two of Bella's friends, weren't we, babe?"

I cringe at the pet name, and Bella just looks like she's in shock. _Yes, Bella, this shit is really happening_.

"This'll be a trial run," Jake adds jokingly, before he pulls out a chair for Kate, who hesitates only a moment before sitting down. I apparently have no say in this, as I walk around the table and sit down opposite my girlfriend.

Oblivious to the calamity going on in Bella's head; Jake starts up a conversation, asking Kate what she does, where she's from and all the normal stuff. All the important questions only strangers ask. I glance nervously at Bella, but she's just staring at nothing; a nothing that must exist right in front of Kate's face. I think, until this point, Kate has been something that exists in another world to the ones Bella and I have created for ourselves.

But she's here now, and it's forcing us to stop kidding ourselves.

What we're doing is _not okay_.

"Should I get drinks?" Jake asks.

There's collective nodding, and he stands. He taps my shoulder, and we head to the bar together. Oh, fuck. What is happening right now? Jake makes small talk as we wait and I force myself not to look back at the table. What could the girls be talking about?

 _Jesus_.

When we get back, Kate and Bella are talking about swimming. I'm surprised but also relieved they've chosen a safe topic. Jake joins in, and I try to pay attention. Bella sips at her Coke while we talk and I've got my _Gatorade_. Kate and Jake are drinking. They're older, I guess. I don't know.

At some point, two conversations occur: Jake and I, and Bella and Kate. It's odd, but I roll with it.

It's when Jake pushes the peanuts my way that Bella's eyes flick towards me, and when Kate suggests that Bella should definitely try out more vigorous sports, I glance her way. Our mouths open at the same time.

"He's allergic to peanuts," Bella says at the same time I say, "She has asthma."

We stare at each other for a moment, before we both let out nervous laughter. Jake gives her a curious look, and Kate's eyes never stray far from my face. I'm in so much shit once this night is over. I think it'd be okay if I'd actually told Kate that Bella existed, but the fact I've hidden her isn't playing in my favor.

It's awkward for a solid minute before I speak up.

"Do you want to dance?" I ask Kate.

She waits a beat before she nods. I stand immediately, and she follows. I want out of this situation _right now_. I have half a mind to lead her right out of this bar. I have a feeling I'm going to be making up for all of this in a big way when the night is over.

When we get to the dance floor, Kate's arms slip around my neck, and she hugs me to her. Her body is cool against mine, which is something I've always struggled to get used to. I wrap my own arms around her waist, and relax into her touch. I'm just glad she hasn't asked me anything more about Bella. I'll take this, I guess; this silence, this _clinginess_.

I don't notice Bella and Jake have joined us on the dance floor until I look up. They're a few feet away, their positions matching ours. Well, no. Jake's hands are somewhat inappropriately close to Bella's ass for out in public.

Not that I'm looking at her ass.

I drop my gaze, tightening my hold on Kate.

My girlfriend.

Who is here, to see me.

This is too much for me. Having Bella and Kate in the same place is confusing, and troubling. For so long, I've been able to keep them separate, but now they've been forced together, and my mind and body can't handle it.

And, when I look up again, my eyes searching for Bella; I'm not surprised to find that she's looking at me too.


	13. Hold On, We're Going Home

**Chapter Thirteen: Hold On, We're Going Home  
**

 **BPOV**

Edward is looking at me over Kate's shoulder. His facial expression is indecipherable, but we both know he shouldn't be looking at me when he's dancing with Kate. Also, I shouldn't be looking at him when I'm dancing with Jake.

If you could call this dancing.

Jake isn't interested in dancing at all. He just wants to put his hands on me, which is fine with me, I guess. But now his mouth is doing things. I can feel his lips and teeth on my neck, my hair covering what he's up to. It's a good thing too, because -

 _Edward_.

I suddenly feel dirty as I continue to dance with Jake, but he's pulling me in, hands on my hips, lips on my skin.

I'm too young for this.

We're all too young.

"Jake," I whisper.

It takes him a moment to realize I've spoken and his head lifts, his eyes curious as he looks at me. "Hmm?"

"I want to go home," I tell him.

His eyes light up as if it's some innuendo. It's not. I just want to go home, but I don't say anything to contradict his thoughts, because I don't to fight about leaving. Thankfully, Jake agrees to go without much fuss.

He's the one who interrupts Kate and Edward's dance to say we're taking off, and I make a point of hanging back while he does. I've had enough of Edward and Kate for one day. Heck, I think I've had enough for one lifetime. If I never have to see them together again; my life will be perfectly fine.

I wave awkwardly at them when Jake is headed back to me, and then we're going. Jake drops some money onto the table; we grab our coats, and then we leave. I'm not really sure how I'm going to get out of, uh, making out with Jake, because I'm really not up to it.

Every time I close my eyes, I see Edward.

Edward with Kate.

Jake doesn't seem to sense my unease. I guess I hide it well these days. Or he's just not paying as close enough attention as he once did. We used to be so much better at this. Before -

Just _before_.

Before Edward.

It's my fault.

But, is it?

When we get to my street, Jake doesn't park in front of my house. It's a typical let's-make-out move, and I think I give in because I'd welcome the distraction. I give in because Jake is my boyfriend and I should _want_ to kiss him.

I guess the one good thing about Jake's knowing what he knows about Ohio is that, when I say it's enough; it usually is.

Enough comes sooner than either of us expects, and he pouts. I absently note that, once upon a time, I might have found it cute or even endearing; but not today. All I can think about as I leave the warmth of his car is that Edward and Kate probably don't have the problem of _enough_ , but I wouldn't know. Edward and I don't talk about that.

We don't talk about a lot of things.

I walk slowly towards the house, trying desperately to shake off the _dirty_ feeling. I haven't felt this way in years, and I hate it. I just hate it.

When I get to the porch, I turn to look back at Jake, but he's already gone.

My brain registers that Edward would have stayed.

My tears tell me I shouldn't care.

* * *

It's a little weird after Winter Break. I think our 'double date' just put things in perspective or something like that. Jake and I fight about nothing, because he doesn't want to ask me what my relationship with Edward is _really_ like. I wouldn't even know what to say to him because I can't describe what Edward and I have. We're friends, sure, but it's so much more than that. Nobody would understand.

Heck, _I_ don't even understand.

I think he and Kate fight as well because he scowls whenever her name comes up in conversation. It's not often, but it's common enough for me to notice. It was definitely a bad idea for us to spend that time together, _with_ our significant others. We couldn't hide our familiarity, and it's been chaos ever since. Jake is a little more demanding of my time, and I don't blame him. I was already spending more time with Edward, and that's not okay.

So, I subconsciously inject myself further into my relationship with Jake, though Edward and I still meet on Thursday evenings for our weekly pizza and homework session. I see Jake all the time, even at lunch during the week. We eat in his car mainly, or on the hood in the parking lot.

I'm so relieved when things settle down.

Just to pick up again almost immediately, but in an entirely different way.

It's the Thursday before Valentine's Day, and I'm headed to Edward's just after I receive a text from him, letting me know he just got home. It'll take about ten minutes to drag myself off my bed and head to his house. It's usually enough time for him to shower and get dressed, and we'll be able to get started on our pizzas as soon as I get there. I've convinced him to try more than pepperoni as a topping now, and he's refusing to give me the satisfaction of being the one who made him a little less than _boring_.

I put on my shoes; grab my jacket, keys and purse, and then head downstairs. I walk past the living room, absently saying goodbye to my mom, who's sitting alone with the TV's volume on low, and her _iPad_ in her lap.

"Where are you going?" she asks, and I stop in my tracks in the doorway.

"Hmm?"

"Where are you off to?" she asks, barely looking up from her _iPad_. She knows exactly where I'm going, so I find the question odd.

"I'm headed to see Edward," I say anyway, my tone slightly clipped as I hover in the doorway. There is something in her tone I really don't like.

"Oh?"

I sigh. "Okay... now what's wrong?"

She looks at me for the first time. "I just find it a little strange."

"What?"

"It's just, you know, why is it that you're always the one who goes over there, but he never comes to see you _here_?"

The question throws me slightly, and it gives me a moment of pause. It's a good question, sure, and the answer I want to give just doesn't feel right. It's about Jake and the rest of my friends, isn't it? We're always at _his_ house because any of them could show up here unannounced, and then what would we do?

"Just something to think about," she comments, and I waste no time heading out, unsure what my response would have been anyway.

I try not to think about what my mom may or may not be implying as I drive to Edward's house. It's Thursday night, which is _our_ 'date night.' It's always been at his house. Whatever my mom's hinting at; is it true? Why hasn't he ever come to my house? Why has he never _asked_? I mean, he's friends with Riley (sort of), and Max absolutely adores him, but he's never made the effort to come into my space to spend time with me or see my brothers.

My mom was implying _something_. It was about Edward, and it doesn't sit well with me. I don't like the fact she thinks Edward is _bad_ for me. Sure, we've had our ups and downs, but he's good for me. He's been the best thing about this year, really.

And the worst, maybe.

Everything about him is confusing and overwhelming.

When I pull into the driveway, I'm feeling odd. Edward is supposed to be _easy_ but, sometimes, things can get complicated. Okay, more than just _sometimes_. Particularly after the New Year. We've been struggling with our dynamic, I guess. It's the fact that we're more than normal friends, I think. We talk endlessly. We hug, we hold hands, we kiss cheeks and foreheads. We tell each other our deepest secrets, and we trust each other beyond measure.

It all boils down to the fact that, if he didn't have a girlfriend and I didn't have a boyfriend; we would probably be dating each other.

It's a truth that constantly hangs over us, begging to be acknowledged.

We're both studiously ignoring it.

I eventually get out of my car and make my way to the front door. I don't knock. It's almost a given that I'm here on Thursdays, and I'm able to stroll right in, absently waving at the patrolling security guard on the front lawn.

The house is quiet, which is normal. Maybe Esme and Edward's dad have already headed out. He wants me to call him Carlisle, but I don't think I can. He's my dad's boss; it's too weird. I head to the kitchen where I find Edward already sitting at the breakfast nook, chatting softly with Heidi as she prepares the dough for our pizzas.

He's freshly showered, hair damp and cheeks flushed as he drinks a protein supplement _and_ a glass of _Gatorade_. He looks relaxed, and I like this look on him. He really is a beautiful boy. It's not lost on me that I've stopped needing Angela to remind me that Edward is stupid hot. She's constantly saying he's sweet as heaven and hot as hell. But, really, she doesn't even know.

"Hi," he says, smiling in that way that I'm convinced in reserved for me.

"Hi back," I say, moving towards him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

He leans into me, his hand sliding around my waist, and we hug for a moment. Tonight is supposed to be easy and simple and, for a while, it is.

Until it isn't.

I don't know how it starts.

Okay, I do, but I don't know _why_ it starts. We're just sitting at his impossibly large desk, each of us working on something different, and I guess my brain just latches onto a subconscious thought, and stupidly decides to run with it.

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Are you ashamed of being friends with me?" I ask.

His head snaps towards me, a frown on his face. "What?" he asks. "Why would you ask me that?"

I clear my throat. "It's just, you know, you've never actually come to my house before... Well, not since the first time."

He regards me for a moment. "Well, I haven't exactly been _invited_ back, Bella."

I stare at him.

"I figured you didn't actually want me around," he says. "It's not like I don't _want_ to come to your house." He waits a beat. Then: "Is that what you think?"

I hesitate.

"Bella?" he questions, frowning deeper.

"Is it because my dad works for yours?" I ask, which is an even bigger mistake because his frown turns into something else. Confusion, yes, but anger too.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, and our homework is definitely now abandoned. Forgotten; pushed aside. We're doing this. Okay, we're doing this.

 _Bella, what did you do?_

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks again when I don't answer. What am I supposed to say? I don't even know what it's supposed to mean. He blinks rapidly, as if he's fighting something. A moment later, it's as if he's made a decision, his mind running with what I did and didn't say. "Do you really think so little of me?" he asks suddenly, his voice low and _dangerous_. "That I wouldn't _want_ to come to your house because I think you're _less_ than me?" He scowls. "Jesus, Bella."

I open my mouth to say something, but he starts up again before I can even attempt to fumble through words that probably won't even make sense.

"Is that really what you think of me?" he asks, clearly in disbelief. He _looks_ shocked; as if this is something that has never crossed his mind before. "I thought - I mean - is that how I come across? I've never - God - after all this time? Is that - _fuck_."

I flinch, but he misses it.

He stands up suddenly, and this time he catches my flinch, though he doesn't look at all apologetic. There's such anger in his expressive eyes. And hurt. God, I've really _hurt_ him with my stupid, misplaced assumptions.

"Edward," I try to say.

"Save it!" he snaps, and I flinch again. I really don't respond well to raised voices and curse words. "Maybe I would understand this opinion of me _before_ we became friends, but - " he stops, his voice catching. "You were supposed to be different." Oh, God. "I thought you knew me," he says softly, sounding defeated. "I thought you understood me. I thought you lov - " He shakes his head, making another decision. "I think you should leave."

I blink in surprise. What?

He nods as if he's just accepting the suggestion in his own mind. "Seeing as I'm so fucking high and mighty, yeah; I'd like you to leave."

I just stare at him.

His gaze meets mine for a moment, and I have to hold back a sob. "Please just leave, Bella," he whispers. "Whatever else you want to say; I really don't want to hear it. What could you say anyway? I reckon we've both said more than enough tonight, anyway."

At that, he turns and walks out of his own bedroom leaving me a little stunned. Okay, _a lot_ stunned. I really wasn't expecting him to fly off like that. I also wasn't expecting him to jump to so many conclusions. I mean, it was an innocent enough question, wasn't it?

It takes me an obscenely long time to pack up my things. I half expect him to come back so we can talk about this, but he doesn't. I don't hear another sound in the house, and so I take my leave in silence, feeling thoroughly put out. Sure, Edward and I have fought before - bickered, really - but nothing like that. I mean, there was the whole Emmett/Riley thing, but this is the first time it's really to do with us.

Well, to do with _me_.

I'm such an idiot.

And it's that idiot in me who doesn't text him an apology when I get home or even the next day. Friday feels like the longest day in all of existence, which is made even worse by Edward's silence. We sit side-by-side in Biology but say zero words to each other. I don't really know what to say, and it's doubtful he'll respond well to whatever I decide on anyway.

So, I stay silent, and the only words Edward says are to Mr. Banner when he answers a question about the make-up of a neuron. His velvet voice is like music to my ears, and I don't know how to fix this. I _have_ to fix this.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of the lesson; Edward packs up his things and stands.

I turn to look at him. "Edward?"

He just shakes his head, gathers his things and then walks away, leaving me to watch after him. I swallow my own hurt and head to English. I'm distracted, of course, and Angela and Jasper definitely notice. Angela attempts to ask me about it, but I just shake my head. It's as effective at keeping her quiet as Edward's head-shake was with me.

French is worse. I can't technically see Edward from where we both sit, but I can _feel_ him. He's behind me, and I just know he's not looking at me. Somehow, I manage to get through the lesson without turning around and begging him to forgive me.

I'd have to apologize first.

When the bell rings, I steel myself and turn around to look at him, but he's already out of his seat and leaving the classroom. Well. He's clearly not ready to talk. I guess that's okay. I'm not quite ready either. I don't know.

But it does make my Friday evening quite sad. I hate the silence from Edward. It's terribly unsettling, and I can't get myself to sit still. I pace, and I try to do anything I can to distract myself, but I'm so restless. I barely get to sleep, tossing and turning the way I tend to do when things get a little too much to handle.

By morning, I don't feel much better. I spend hours working on my homework, even reading ahead like the loser I am.

It's barely gone two-thirty when I give up.

I grab my phone and sigh heavily. Okay. I get it. _I'm_ in the wrong, I know. I open up our message thread. I hate this. I hate it so much. It's been radio silent for so long, and I miss him. I just miss him He's much better at the silence than I am.

I give in.

 **Beaufort: I'm sorry.**

 **Beaufort: I don't think any of those things I did or didn't say. I'm just letting people get in my head.**

 **Beaufort: Come over?**

 **Beaufort: Please.**

 **Beaufort: This is an (in)formal invitation to have dinner with my family and me. Tonight.**

I'm tempted to send more messages, but I don't. I really don't want to overwhelm him. I just stare at my screen for the longest time. He's usually good at replying, and I know this is going to be a long wait.

There's also the possibility he might not even text back.

I busy myself with other things, trying to distract myself from the wait. Because I'm going out with Jake for Valentine's Day tomorrow, we're skipping our regular Saturday date night. Instead, I work on my Physics Problem Set that's due in two weeks' time, my ears tuned in for any sound other than the soft music playing from my dock station.

When my phone buzzes, I practically leap at it. I lie on my stomach on my bed and open Edward's message.

As I read it, my relief very quickly turns to mild panic.

 **Edythe: What time?**

* * *

It's awkward.

As soon as he steps through the front door, I pull him aside, hug the life out of him and tell him that my dad is home. If I weren't so off-balance already, I would have laughed at the alarmed look on his face.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't know he would be."

His eyes are wide. "Okay... Am I supposed to be worried or something?"

"No," I rush to say, my right hand touching his chest. "I just - it's a little tense in the house because of it. I know you and I have things to talk about, but I want you to know the tension isn't because of you, all right?"

He blinks.

"Should I come back another time?"

"No!"

Despite his slightly dazed expression, he smiles. "Oh, okay then."

I grab his hand and lead him through to the kitchen, where we find my mom and Riley just finishing up with dinner.

"Oh, Edward," my mom says, smiling at him. It's a genuine smile, which I'm relieved about. Really, this whole mess is her fault; busy putting all sorts of thoughts into my head. "I made seafood pasta just for you."

Edward's grin splits his face, and I can't help my giggle.

Riley steps up, watching him warily. I don't really know what's up between the two of them, but I hold my breath until Riley starts speaking. "Do you play _FIFA_?"

Edward's hand releases mine as he takes a small step forward. " _Do I_?"

Riley grins, and Edward smiles back. "Are you game?"

Edward glances at me, asking the silent question.

I exaggerate a sigh. "Go on, then," I tell him. "But behave."

He laughs, and I can't help thinking we'll be okay. Whatever happens, we'll always be okay. "Yes, ma'am," he says, turning and leaning back. He places a soft kiss on my cheek, and then he walks away, following behind my brother.

I watch him go until he disappears, my smile fading into a look of contentment. I'm just so glad he's here; that he isn't so mad at me that he would stay away. My eyes drift away from the door, towards my mom, who's looking at me curiously. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says before she continues doing whatever it is she's doing.

It's not nothing, and we both know it. Edward kissed my cheek. He did it with purpose, and I can still feel his touch on my skin as it lingers. We're in deep, though I'm not sure _what_ we're in, and I'm not sure I want to know.

The longer I play dumb about this whole thing; the more it's going to end up hurting.

Him, me, both of us.

 _All_ of us.

When we do finally sit down to eat; I'm feeling marginally better. Edward looks relaxed, my brothers are eating up his attention, and my parents aren't talking to each other. I mean, I know I should be worried about that but I'd rather they not talk right now, anyway, given that they are more than likely to start yelling at each other at some point. Nobody needs to see that. Especially not Edward.

I notice that my mom sets a bowl of pasta right in front of Edward, but says nothing. He shoots me an amused look.

'Eat up,' I mouth to him, and he does. He's a growing boy and all that but, damn, the boy can eat. I'm just relieved he feels comfortable enough not to worry. I mean, I'm sure he can _feel_ the tension that we're all studiously ignoring. Edward and I are professionals at that.

Maybe it's in the blood.

"So, Edward, any plans for the future?" my dad asks, speaking up after a lull in the conversation, and Edward shifts in his seat.

"At the moment, my focus is on swimming," he says carefully, almost diplomatically. "It's going to decide which college I end up attending."

I make a mental note to discuss college with him at some point.

Wait.

I should be discussing this with Jake. I do find it a little weird that my boyfriend hasn't even brought it up yet. Surely, he's thinking about college. He must be getting hounded by colleges who want them to run for them.

"Swimming," my dad says. "So, you're quite good then?"

Edward's eyes flick my way, and it takes me a moment to figure out what's going on. Oh, my God. Is _he_ seriously _vetting_ Edward right now? "Uh," Edward starts; "I'm decent, I guess."

"That's not true," I immediately say. "You're brilliant."

He flushes as if on command.

"He's a nationally recognized swimmer," I continue. I want Edward to be proud of his accomplishments. "On track for the Olympics, aren't you, Cullen?"

He grins at me, and we momentarily forget there are other people at the table.

"The Olympics!" Max squeals. "That's so cool!"

Edward's head snaps towards him. "Uh, not quite yet, Max," he says gently. "I'm going to have to work very hard."

Max nods in understanding. "But that's still so cool."

"So, you haven't thought of what you might study?" my dad asks, and I shoot him a look. What is he doing?

Edward shifts uncomfortably. "No, sir, I haven't," he admits, and I admire him for it. "I'm still a junior. I'm more concerned with _where_ I go. There's no _one_ thing that I'm more passionate about than swimming. I'd study it if I could."

My dad looks thoughtful. "Sports' Science is an option," he offers.

"Charlie," my mom says, and that shuts him up. I don't know if my dad is acting this way because Edward's my friend or if it's because he's my dad's boss' son. I mean, even Jake didn't get this kind of interrogation. Edward also looks a little confused by it, but he accepts the change in topic, prompting Max to talk about _Spider-Man_ , and I roll my eyes at the naughty smirk on his face. What a little instigator.

After we've eaten, Riley, Edward and I clear the table and do the dishes. The boys joke around, absently teasing each other as if they've been friends for years. Edward's eyes meet mine a few times, and he looks light, full of mirth. It's in such contrast to the anger that was burning in him just two days ago. Has it really only been two days since I royally put my foot in my mouth?

Once we're done, I steal Edward from Riley - who pouts - and take him up to my bedroom. I half expect my dad to say something, but he doesn't. I leave the door open anyway. I reason it's just safer for all of us.

My bedroom isn't as big as Edward's, but it does have a lot of _stuff_. I'm a hoarder, you see. I collect things, and I just never get rid of anything.

Edward looks like he loves it. I watch him as he takes it all in, studying the posters on my walls and the various pictures I've put up. Most are family pictures, but my Seattle friends are present as well. None from Ohio though. I don't have friends in Ohio.

Not anymore, at least.

Well.

Maybe I never did.

Of course, I hid anything that could be classified as 'embarrassing,' but I know I have nothing to be embarrassed about with Edward. He doesn't look as if he's judging anything he sees. But he _is_ looking, and he's learning things. I don't know what, but he's definitely interested. I watch him move towards my bookcase, and I suddenly feel self-conscious of the books he's going to find.

His long fingers trail across the spines, and I can't take my eyes off the movement of his hands.

"So," he says.

"So," I echo, moving towards him. I know I left my door open, but it doesn't stop me from wrapping him in my arms and holding him tight. "I am so sorry," I whisper against him before letting go and looking into his eyes. "About everything I said on Thursday, about being too proud to apologize right that very second and about - "

"Bella," he says, cutting me off.

"Edward?"

"How are you a fan of Stephen King when you don't like horror movies?" he asks.

For a moment, I'm stumped. What? Then: "No," I say. "I'm going to apologize, and you're going to listen to it, and accept it."

He grins at me. "Okay."

My eyes narrow. "I'm sorry," I say again. "I truly am. I didn't mean any of it. I was just - actually, I don't even know what I was. But I'm sorry. Okay?"

"Okay."

I wait a beat. "And, I'm not _really_ a fan of Stephen King. I just like _The Green Mile_. I first watched the movie with my dad, and I wanted to read the book, and I loved it."

He frowns slightly.

"It's not really a horror. It's actually quite moving."

He blinks.

"Have you never _seen_ it?"

He nods.

"Well, now we know which movie we're watching for our next movie night," I tell him, just now realizing how close to him I'm standing. I take a small step back and mask it by turning towards my bookshelf. I suddenly feel a little nervous, and overwhelmed.

"I see the obligatory 'J.K. Rowling' novels," he says quietly. "How much of a fan _are_ you?" He sounds so serious, and I'm left to wonder why.

"Pretty big," I tell him.

"How big is 'pretty big?'" he asks.

I watch his face intensely, noting the tightness in his lips and the slightly mischievous look in his perfect eyes. "Uh, as big as the average person, I guess," I tell him. "Why?"

His face falters slightly. "Oh."

I frown. "Oh, what?"

"Nothing," he mumbles, turning away from me.

"Hey," I say, lifting my hand to turn his head back, my fingers light on the skin of his chin. "Tell me."

His blush is a surprise. "I just - I guess I just really love Harry Potter," he says; "and I kind of thought that - " he stops.

I can't help my smile. "You're a bit of a fanatic, are you?"

His blush only deepens.

"Are you disappointed you haven't found a fanatic in me?"

He waits a beat before he shrugs. "A little, yeah."

"I'm sorry," I tell him, and I mean it. Sure, we've discussed Harry Potter before, but he looks oddly forlorn about the revelation that I clearly don't like it _as much_ as he does. "Look at the bright side though." His eyes perk up slightly. "I don't _not_ like it."

He lets out an amused breath. "Thank God for small mercies. That's a deal breaker right there, Swan. This friendship would end this very instant."

I've never admitted to him that I secretly like it when he calls me 'Swan.'

His eyes drift back to my bookcase, Harry Potter temporarily forgotten. "Jeffrey Archer, Malorie Blackman," he reads. "Anthony Horowitz, John Green, a lot of John Grisham... Huh?"

"What?"

"Quite a bit of courtroom drama you've got here," he points out.

I shrug. "Most are hand-me-downs from my dad," I say. "He _loves_ them. Also, the Crime, Mystery, Thriller kind of stuff."

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, so it's inherited them? Your love for the thriller."

I laugh lightly. "You know, now that you bring it up - we didn't actually finish watching _Prom Night_ , did we?"

He masterfully avoids my gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbles, his attention elsewhere. I'm tempted to lean forward and kiss his chin, but I control myself. These responses are merely a result of the fact that we haven't spoken in a few days and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to fix it.

But have I? He won't really let us talk about it, but even I know avoidance of _this_ isn't the answer. Goodness only knows I'm a well-experienced _avoider_. There are _so_ many things I'm able to ignore, only seeing what I want to see, and I seem to be rubbing off on Edward.

He continues to study the books, and I continue to study him. His jaw tenses periodically, and I reason he must know I'm watching him. Despite it, I don't stop. At a certain point, his steady breathing changes.

"Cynthia Voigt," he whispers, and I look. It's the Tillerman Cycle Series. "I read these when I was younger," he explains, his voice so low that I strain to hear him. "I read a lot of books about parental abandonment. My counselor recommended a few, just to show me that whatever I was feeling was okay, but I kept up with it as I got older. I thought maybe - I guess I thought I'd be able to figure out _why_ she did what she did."

I swallow audibly.

He looks at me. "Maybe it's why I like Harry Potter so much," he says. "There are so many orphans in that series."

I have to point it out because what else can I do? "But you're not an orphan, Edward," I say, my tone matching his in how forlorn we both sound.

"Aren't I?" he asks. "My mother left, and my father followed. When he came back, he was different. Worked all the time; didn't - " he stops. "I think he saw her whenever he looked at me and it was too hard for him. When he met Esme, he could focus on something else. And then the boys arrived, and I guess - " he stops again.

I reach for his closest hand and squeeze gently.

" _They're_ a happy family without me," he says.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

His silence is enough of an answer.

"I only know what I see, Edward; but your family needs you. Of course, they love you. I mean, if you could only see the way Peter and Liam look up to you; their successful, super cool, big brother. Heck, even Max and Riley look at you with awe. It's actually a little irritating."

He looks like he wants to argue.

"It's nothing to do with the swimming," I tell him seriously. "It's _you_. Everything you are and everything you're not." I squeeze his hand again, almost tugging him towards me. I wait a beat before I wrap my arms around him and absently hum against the skin of his neck.

There's a moment of hesitation before he returns my hug and just lets me hold him. I've never considered myself as someone who's particularly comforting - I've always been quite _hard_ , I guess - but Edward seems to find comfort in me, so I give it to him.

I'd give him everything, if I could.

Edward is the one who brings us out of our morbid topic, and we settle down on the carpet at the foot of my bed with our backs pressed against the mattress, absently discussing the books in front of us as our eyes settle on them. I'm surprised by how many of the books I own he's actually read, and he seems to be making mental notes of the ones he hasn't. We'll definitely have more to talk about soon, I'm sure.

We're sitting side by side, our bodies close. He's cool to touch, but the contact is making me feel warm. This boy is so special, and I think the world of him. I just wonder if he thinks the world of himself. Tonight showed me that there are still things he needs to deal with when it comes to what he feels about his mother, and his dad. And Esme. Really, his entire family.

He mentioned seeing a counselor.

 _I_ saw a therapist in Ohio before we left, and then another when we got here. I saw her throughout my freshman year, and then until I finally agreed to date Jake. We discussed ending our sessions a few times, and she used the way I handled approaching a new relationship as indicative of the fact that I was ready to face life without her.

I believed her then, but I think she was wrong. I need her help with the boy sitting on my right side, animatedly discussing his thoughts on the _Gone Series_. I like to think I'm helping him - Esme and Jane clearly think I am - but I think I just help _distract_ him. I listen to him when he talks, and I hear what he says. He does that for me too, but we both know there is one very big thing I'm not telling him.

"I shudder to think about what this place would be like if all the adults just disappeared," he says.

I drop my head onto his shoulder. "You do realize that, in that world, we would be gone as well, right? We're older than fourteen."

He drops his own head onto mine, and I feel myself relax. I've been so tense, thinking that I ruined everything. But he's here now, and my body is at ease. Sort of like my mind, I guess. "There you go with your logic," he teases. "If you could have any superpower, what would you have?"

"Hmm," I sound, visibly thinking. "Is there something like self-defense?" I ask.

He breathes out. "Uh, like, some kind of shield?"

"Yeah," I say; "exactly like that." We're quiet for a moment, before I speak. "What about you?"

"I've reasoned that messing with time is always going to end badly," he says quietly; "so I'd think I'd like to read peoples' minds, to - " he halts.

"To what?" I question his hesitation.

"To _know_ , I guess," he confesses. "To know if they're true; to know if they really mean what they say; to know that, when they leave, they're coming back."

I lift my head, jostling us both, to look at him. "Edward," I say seriously. "Did you believe me when I told you I was coming back?"

He waits a beat before he nods.

Our faces are so close to each other; I can feel his breath on my skin. "I know we had a rough week, but you're stuck with me," I tell him. "I'm not going to abandon you." I use the word he's terrified of because I need him to hear me. "I won't abandon you."

He surprises me by pecking the tip of my nose. "I hear you, Bella."

"Good," I say. "Because I won't. I mean it, Edward." I take a breath. "I won't abandon you," I repeat.

I lie.

* * *

Sunday is Valentine's Day, and Jake has us celebrate our one-year anniversary on it. It's not _really_ our anniversary, but it is the day I agreed to _see_ him, which he reasons was the beginning of it all. He'd worn me down enough, and I'd exhausted myself testing to see if he was the real deal.

It's also the day that Jacob Black tells me he loves me for the first time.

I'm so caught off guard that I choke on my _Coke_. Wait. What?

Jake looks at me, his puppy-dog eyes wide and vulnerable. "Bella, did you hear what I said?"

I blink, my mouth opening and closing. Did he just...? "Jake," I squeak. "Are you - did you - what - "

"I love you," he says again, his smile hesitant.

Love.

He loves me.

I've had a boy tell me he loved me before, and that didn't really turn out all that well.

Jake's smile falters the longer I remain silent. "Uh," he says awkwardly, his eyes darting around the restaurant. "You don't have to say it back if you don't want to."

I definitely don't want to. I remain silent, Jake just watching me for the longest time.

Eventually, I think he accepts that I'm not going to be saying it back. I note the look of disappointment in his eyes, which quickly turns into something I don't recognize. Confusion, maybe. Determination?

Somehow, our evening gets back on track, and we're able to temporarily shelf the topic of _my_ feelings to see the night out. I can't tell him I love him because I'm not convinced I do. I'm comfortable, I guess. I'm safe in this relationship that I sometimes think will be _it_. So, why can't I tell him that I love him?

It's been a year. Surely, I should love him by now.

Jake's mood lifts when we order dessert. He's an entirely different person when we take a walk after dinner, his hand in mine. It's... warm, and it unsettles me. Edward's hands are colder than mine. It's something I've grown used to.

Does that mean I hold Edward's hands more than I do my own boyfriend's? I mean, I _do_ see him more, so that makes sense, right?

God, this is all just such a mess.

Sunday night curfew sends us home earlier than it would on a Saturday, and he grumbles about it good-naturedly. I'm just glad he seems to be over his earlier confession and my lack of response. I mean, it's usually a comedic moment in movies when one person says 'I love you' and the other person doesn't say it back, but nothing about this is funny.

We make out until the last moment, which is all I can really give him right now. Maybe he realizes it, because he takes what I give. He takes, and he takes, without asking for more. I never thought that giving physically would be easier than giving emotionally.

Something is wrong with me.

When the light starts to flicker on the front porch, I pull away. He's grinning naughtily at me, and I wipe his mouth with my fingers, hiding the evidence. I straighten myself out because he has straying hands.

I kiss him once, bid him goodnight, and then climb out of the car. I try not to think about the events of this night as I make my way towards the front door. I try to settle myself as I stand on the front porch and turn to look back at the street. I'm not surprised that Jake has already left.

I can't really tell if he's mad about tonight. He was his usual accepting self, so I can only assume he realizes what my silence means because I definitely don't. He was understanding about it, without my having to explain.

It just never occurs to me that his telling me he loves me makes him think he now _deserves_ things from me.

My mind, my time _and_ my body.

Somehow, I managed to convince myself he would be different, but I know better now.

They're all the same.


	14. You've Got a Friend In Me

**Chapter Fourteen: You've Got a Friend In Me  
**

 **EPOV**

"I swear, if you look at your phone one more time; I'm definitely going to be offended."

Bella startles at the sound of my voice, but she does set her phone down. She takes a breath before she smiles sheepishly at me. "Sorry," she says.

I blink. "Are you _waiting_ for something?"

"Sort of," she admits.

I frown. "Is this something I should know about?" I ask, wracking my brain for what it could be. I'm certain she didn't say anything before. "Am I forgetting something important? Am I being a terrible friend?"

"No," she says, letting out a laugh. " _I'm_ being a terrible friend. I should be giving you my attention instead of - " she stops suddenly.

"Instead of what?" I press.

She shakes her head. "It's not important," she tries, but she must know I don't believe her. I mean, it isn't as if I haven't noticed that things have been a little weird. First, we had to deal with the aftermath of our significant others meeting each other, which was awkward as hell - I still don't know how I feel about it - and then we had that whole blowup over the fact that I never went to her house.

But something else must have happened, because the distraction started only _after_ Valentine's Day.

It's to do with Jake, isn't it?

I ignore everything that thought makes me feel, and allow us to move on. We have another write-up for Biology, and I swear I feel as if I've been doing this AP course for my entire life. I remember Mr. Banner warning us that we might end up hating him, but I never thought it was possible. He's definitely testing me.

It doesn't take Bella long to glance at her phone again, and irritation spikes inside of me. "Bella," I say, my tone offering no indication of my feelings.

She startles again, her phone slipping from her hand and landing in her lap. She bites her bottom lip in embarrassment, maybe. I don't know. "Sorry," she says again.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"It's nothing."

I raise my eyebrows, just waiting. I know she's lying, and she knows I know she's lying. We need to stop with all the lying.

She eventually sighs, giving in. "Okay, so, I may or may not be fighting with Jake right now," she says, which I half-expected, but the mention of his name still stirs something inside of me. I definitely don't want to talk about this, but it looks as if she needs it.

I shift awkwardly, turning to face her. "About what?"

She swallows. "Uh, so, he told me he loves me," she says carefully, and I force myself not to react. Holy shit. Of all the things I expected her to say; that's not it. "And I kind of can't bring myself to say it back to him."

"Oh," is all my intelligent brain can think to say. "Um, okay...?"

She lets out an exasperated breath. "He said he's fine with the fact I'm not ready to say it back," she continues. "He _said_ it was okay. But - "

"But what?"

"But he kind of hasn't spoken to me all week," she says, glancing at her phone. "I don't even know if we're having date night tomorrow."

I feel about as useless as a candle in the rain; I just don't know what to say. She's clearly telling me this because she probably expects some kind of advice from me, but I have nothing.

I've never been in love. I don't remember the last time I even _told_ someone I loved them. It's not an emotion I can claim to know much about, seeing as I _am_ only sixteen and have only been 'seriously' dating for all the time I've been dating Kate.

Who, incidentally, I'm almost sure I don't yet love.

Bella drops her head down onto the desk with a thump, and I glance worriedly over my shoulder out of habit. "I mean," she says; "people don't break up because one falls in love with the other first, do they?"

Nothing.

I've got nothing.

"Not that I think we're going to break up," she adds quickly. "It's just odd, I guess. There's this step we're supposed to take, and I find it weird that he seemed to _wait_ to say it, as if it was some big moment for us, and now I - " she stops, her head rising sharply, her eyes meeting mine. "You probably don't want to hear any of this, do you?"

"Not really," I admit; "but if you need to say it; I'm all ears."

She smiles softly at me. "Thank you for your honesty, but I think we're okay," she tells me. "He usually gets over this kind of thing pretty quickly."

Her phrasing makes me frown. What does that even mean?

When we first started this friendship, we could talk about relationships, but then I started to like her, and it made everything weird. I mean, it's not as if I _want_ to hear about her relationship with Jake, but I worry she feels she can't talk to me about it. Maybe she talks to Angela or Alice, or both, but, for some reason, I know she doesn't.

I figured out a while ago that I'm not the only person who doesn't know about Ohio, but I suspect I'm one of the only ones who does know there is _something_ to know about Ohio.

We move on, but Bella still glances at her phone from time to time, and I send her a text from under the table, just to make her smile.

 **Edythe: Am I boring you?**

It has the desired effect because she smiles at me when she reads it and sticks out her tongue in my direction. She's still distracted, but she pays more attention to the work we're doing as the evening goes on.

We both startle when her phone sounds, and she grabs for it, immediately reading the text.

I watch her face fall, and my heart drops with it.

She frowns slightly, quickly types a text back, and doesn't look at her phone again. I don't ask her about it, but I suspect she finally received the text from Jake she's been waiting for. It's not what she wanted.

But maybe it's what she expected.

It hurts to see, and I vow to do what I can to lift her spirits.

Even as I make the decision, I never thought my idea to cheer her up would involve a _dance party_ with my brothers and Esme. We find them watching a movie in the living room when we head down to get something to drink. We're both barefoot and looking _scruffy_ , and we pop our heads in just as the final song of the movie is playing.

I recognize it as _You've Got a Friend In Me_ by Randy Newman at the end of _Toy Story_ , and merely the sound of it strikes the idea in me. I saunter into the room, tugging Bella by the hand and bring us to a stop in front of the TV.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Esme asks, frowning at us.

"What are _you_ doing?" I counter. "This is the single greatest credits song ever. _Why_ are you sitting down right now?" They all look at me like I'm crazy, but I just embrace it, absently twirling Bella. I'm surprised she allows me to. "Come on," I say, starting to sing as if I even remember the words. I've always been rubbish with lyrics. " _Boy, you've got a friend in me, yeah, you've got a friend in me._ "

I do a little dance, and Bella laughs. "Sing with me," I say.

She does.

" _You've got a friend in me_ ," we sing together, and I grin stupidly at her.

We watch as Esme drags the boys to their feet, and they join us on the carpet in front of the TV.

" _You've got a friend in me; you got trouble, I've got 'em too; there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you_."

Bella's hand is still in mine, and she's not letting go.

We dance around each other, jumping up and down, twirling and laughing.

" _We stick together and see it through, 'cause you've got a friend in me; you've got a friend in me_."

Peter jumps up onto the couch, and I'm surprised Esme doesn't reprimand him in any way.

" _Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, bigger and stronger too, maybe; but none of them will ever love you the way I do. It's me and you, boy_."

Bella's eyes meet mine, and this song carries meaning. I don't know how and I don't know why, but it does.

" _And as the years go by, our friendship will never die. You're gonna see it's our destiny; you've got a friend in me; you've got a friend in me; you've got a friend in me_."

When the song ends, I laugh at how absurd this all is, but I love it. I tug Bella towards me and put my arm around her shoulders, hugging her close to me.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Thank _you_ ," she whispers back.

I don't ask her what she's talking about, and she doesn't either.

Some things we just already know.

* * *

As the days go by, Bella's distraction doesn't get any better. We don't talk much more about Jake or the fact that they're probably still fighting because it's just something that we do now. It's the kind of avoidance we're used to by now. We talk about things, sure, but there's much more that we don't even get close to discussing.

I didn't realize until it was happening that Kate is one of those topics we don't discuss.

Jake has now become one of them as well.

Days go by, and I'm torn between leaving her alone and doing what I can to, uh, distract her, I guess. Basically, distract her from her distraction. I just want to make her feel better; to take away that strangely solemn look on her face.

So, by Friday, I make a decision.

I watch her head out of Biology. I should have just asked her while she was sitting next to me but, of course, I didn't. Spur of the moment thing and all that. I tear the piece of paper I've been writing on out of my notebook, pack up the rest of my things and then go after her.

Thankfully, she hasn't made it that far away and I catch up easily.

"Hey, Bella?" I call out, surprising us both. The corridor isn't exactly full, but people do turn to look at me. I'm awkward as I jog to catch up with her and hand her the piece of paper I tore out. It's got a list of songs I want her to check out, but the prying eyes would just assume it's Biology-related.

She frowns as she looks down at the paper. "Uh, thanks."

I roll my eyes at her awkwardness. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot."

Now, _I'm_ the awkward one. "So," I say, burying my hands deep in my pockets.

"So," she returns. "What's up?"

I clear my throat. "Well, you see, tonight - " I pause, backtracking. "Okay, so, Jane and Seth are coming over tonight, just to _hang_ , I guess, and I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

For a moment, she just stares at me.

"Uh, I mean, it's Friday, so - "

"Sure," she suddenly says, cutting me off. "What time?"

I blink. "Probably around seven thirty."

She smiles at me. "I'll be there."

If I'm being honest, I didn't expect her to agree so quickly, but I'm so relieved. I want to help her take her mind off everything that's happening between her and Jake, I guess, but I also selfishly want to spend the evening trying to make her smile. She's the type of girl who deserves to smile.

The world has to see it.

"Cool," I say, just like the totally uncool person I am.

She gives me one last smile before she turns on her heel and heads down the corridor, leaving me there with a stupid grin on my face. It takes me a moment to shake it off, before I head towards my own locker. I feel a little giddy, which is something foreign to me.

But, okay.

I get through the rest of my lessons and then blaze through my training faster than normal, burning myself out enough to wolf down the first half of my dinner when I get home. There isn't much time between the end of training and the time Jane and Seth are expected to arrive, given that _my_ training is supposed to end at seven on a normal day. As a result, I've just stepped out of the shower when Seth barges into my room.

I'm startled enough to squeak, but I stay on my feet.

"Looking good, Cullen," he says, heading towards my television and powering up my _PlayStation 3_.

"Long time no see," I say stupidly, as I move towards my closet, disappearing into it to find some clothes. When I emerge a few minutes later, Seth has been joined by Jane, though she's decidedly _not_ playing... _FIFA_. One of Seth's favorite games. I prefer _Mortal Kombat_ , if I'm being honest. Bella thinks it's because I'm a horror fanatic, but whatever. What does she know anyway?

"There he is," Jane says when she spots me, her eyes raking over my outfit. "I thought we were just hanging out here," she says.

"We are," I say.

"Then, why do you look like you're trying to impress someone?"

I frown, but Seth is the one who answers. "Bella's coming."

"Shut up, Seth," I say, before looking at Jane. "Wouldn't it be terrible hosting if I just walked around in my pajamas?"

"Not at all, because nobody fucking cares."

I raise my eyebrows. "If you say so," I say, and then disappear back into my closet to change. I don't even know what she's talking about because I was wearing my standard jeans and a button-down.

When I emerge again - in pajamas - Jane is also playing _FIFA_. The two of them are sitting on the same beanbag and the conversation - competition - is getting so heated; I'm worried one is going to end up elbowing the other right onto the floor. It wouldn't be the first time. My controllers have so many stories to tell... when they're not being hurled at the screen, that is.

When Bella arrives, we immediately descend on the kitchen, and Heidi doesn't even know if she's coming or going. I don't blame her. Jane and Seth can be overwhelming as individuals but, together, they're some kind of hurricane.

Bella takes a while to settle and get comfortable with us, which is probably because she's never really spent an extended amount of time with _this_ trio, but I'm just glad she's here at all.

We head to the living room next, with our snacks and drinks aplenty and make the biggest mess imaginable. We play board games, and we play charades - Bella and I totally crush it, by the way - and it's probably the most fun I've had for a while. With everything that's been happening between Rose and Emmett with regards to the unmentionable Royce; we haven't really hung out like we used to and I guess I just miss my friends.

My cheeks and abs hurt from all the laughing and Bella even has tears in her eyes at one point. Seth falls off the couch, and Jane rolls her eyes until all I see is white, I swear. It's a welcome break from the stresses of our lives, and I reason maybe Bella wasn't the only one who needed it.

Close to ten thirty, Bella makes a point of glancing at me, and I read her expression for what it is.

Her curfew.

"Time to go?" I ask unnecessarily, standing.

Bella nods, as she also rises to her feet. I run up to my room to grab some shoes so I can walk her out, while she says goodbye to Seth and Jane. I wait at the door for her, and she laughs at the sight of me in my sweats and bed slippers.

"I've never seen those before," she says, pointing at my _Harry Potter_ themed shoes. _Hufflepuff_ , to be exact.

"Peter got them for me for my birthday," I tell her. "I didn't tell you?" I smirk. "Surprising."

She laughs again, and I feel as if I've accomplished something tonight. She looks lighter, happier and _present_. I can't take my eyes off her. Why is she so bloody beautiful? Seriously.

She glances at her watch, and her eyes widen. "I better get going," she says, moving past me and opening the front door. The yard is lit up, and we spot Caius patrolling in his brooding silence. Bella waves and he waves back, which makes me smile.

I follow Bella to her car and wait until she unlocks it to open the door for her. She looks a little surprised, and I can't help my blush. I'm a gentleman; didn't she know?

Bella doesn't get into the car immediately. Instead, she turns to face me, her expression one of contentment. "Thank you for tonight," she says softly; "I really needed it."

I pout slightly, irritated that she _did_ need it. "I'm glad you had fun," I say anyway.

"I did," she echoes. "I didn't know Jane and Seth were so..." she trails off.

"Sarcastic?" I offer.

She laughs. "Uh, not really what I was going for," she says. "Fun, maybe? Interesting." She takes a moment to think, before she grins, stopping my heart for a moment. "Okay, maybe sarcastic is the word, I guess. You three really do make quite the trio."

I shake my head. "If you say so."

"I've been meaning to tease you about it, you know," she says; "you and your trios."

I blink. "What about you and me then? We're only two."

She steps towards me. "Are we really?" she asks. "Aren't you forgetting Beau and Edythe?"

I laugh out loud because how can't I? "How could I? Please pass on my apologies."

"I will," she says, rising up and quickly kissing my cheek. "Goodnight, Nemo."

I pull her into a hug before she can turn around and disappear, and we hug for the longest time, the reality of this night settling on us. Maybe she knows what I was trying to do by inviting her tonight, but she doesn't comment.

She releases me first, breathing in. "I'm definitely going to miss my curfew now."

"Sorry," I say, but I'm really not.

She rolls her eyes, kisses my cheek one more time, and then gets into the car.

"Text me when you get home," I tell her before I close the door and step back, my eyes solely on her. She's almost mechanical as she starts the engine, puts on her seat-belt, changes the radio station and then shifts into gear. I step back again as she starts to reverse.

She waves at me, her eyes kind, before she takes off at one of those speed demon speeds. I've never actually driven anywhere with her, and I don't think I'll be getting into her car anytime soon. I don't even know what situation we would have to be in for me to be in her car.

I take a breath before I turn and head back into the house. I kick off my shoes at the door, and then head into the living room, my feet silent. So silent that Jane and Seth don't hear me coming. It's the only explanation, really, because I definitely wouldn't have walked in to find Seth with his tongue down Jane's throat if they had.

"What the - "

It's my default reaction, really. If I wasn't so surprised, I would find the way they spring apart truly amusing, but I am so far from finding this at all funny.

"Wait," I say; "what the hell?"

Seth starts to speak, but Jane cuts him off.

"We're dating," she says calmly, rising to her feet slowly.

I frown. "Okay," I say; "why didn't you just tell me?"

They exchange a look. Maybe they're surprised I'm taking it as well as I am or something.

"What?" I ask.

Seth also stands. "Listen, Edward, we - "

"No," I say. "I don't want some half-assed explanation about how you were just waiting to see if it worked or some bullshit like that. _Why_ didn't you tell me?"

They exchange another look, and I'm just so confused. Why wouldn't they tell me?

"Okay," Jane says carefully. "So... we were worried."

I blink. "About what?"

"Well, I mean, we're your friends, right, and it's just been the three of us for a while, and we didn't want you to feel like you were the third wheel or something. Especially with Kate in New York, and you know - " she stops, losing herself somewhere in her explanation.

I just stare at them, trying to figure out if they're joking or not. Jane looks so serious, and Seth looks worried. I absently worry if Rose and Emmett have this worry, which would just be so stupid, really.

I think I surprise us all by bursting out laughing. "Are you serious?" They exchange another nervous look, and it just makes me laugh that much harder. "You _are_ serious." At their silence, I sober up quite quickly. "Are you expecting me to find it weird? Because I don't. I'm actually really happy for you both. It's actually about time, if you ask me." I look at Seth, who looks a little sheepish. He once mentioned that he thought Jane would make a great girlfriend - the one you settle down with after you're done messing around - and I can't wait to tease him about it.

Seth rolls his eyes. "Well, nobody asked you."

I look at Jane, who still looks a little unsure. "Seriously," I say; " _I'm_ fine." I huff. "Actually, I'm a little annoyed you took so long to tell me, even though you haven't actually _told_ me. For how long has this been going on then?"

There, again, with the exchanged look.

I hop over the couch and settle down, patting either side of me. "Go on then," I say. "Tell me all about it. I want to hear all the gory details."

Seth lets out a laugh, and Jane huffs as they move to sit on either side of me. "I like him," Jane says as if it's the simplest thing she's ever said.

Maybe it is.

I look at Seth, and I'm not surprised to find him grinning madly.

"He likes me back," Jane continues. "That's about it."

I raise my eyebrows. "It definitely isn't," I say. "Did I or did I not just catch you five seconds from doing it on my couch?"

Jane gasps, and Seth laughs out loud.

"Firstly," Jane says tensely; "we _were not_ about to do it and, secondly, this is not _your_ couch."

I wave a hand. "Semantics." I sit back. "How long?"

"A few weeks," Jane says, at the same time that Seth says, "Officially since Valentine's Day."

"Ooh," I say. "That _must_ have been _quite_ the night, huh?"

Seth laughs at the same time Jane punches my arm. I really am happy for them, and I guess they're right in the sense that the news does kind of make me miss my girlfriend that bit more. She's always liked to tease Seth about his love for girls - I wonder what she'll say about the fact that his eyes are now focused on only one.

"It's still new," Jane says; "we're taking things slowly."

I roll my eyes. "Not from what I just saw," I say.

Just like that, we're back to normal. The fact that they're dating doesn't change much in _this_ moment, but I suspect there will be some kind of change as the days go on. They'll do things without me, and my traitorous mind does just enough to register the latent fear I feel that they might end up leaving me behind.

I push it away.

Not today.

It feels like eons before I finally get to bed, practically crawling under the covers and reaching for my phone. I text Kate even though I know she's probably already asleep, given the time difference.

Then I text Bella.

I can't help but be proud of myself for texting Kate first.

And then I feel a little sick to my stomach.

 **Edythe: You'll never believe what I just found out... Seth and Jane are totally dating.**

It's only a minute before she replies.

 **Beaufort: I could have told you that.**

 **Edythe: Then why didn't you?**

 **Beaufort: And ruin the surprise, how could I? Did they tell you?**

 **Edythe: You could say that, yeah. Kind of walked in on them getting frisky.**

 **Beaufort: Oh, wow. How was that?**

 **Edythe: Fucking awkward. But hey. I'm happy for them. Everybody should be happy.**

I wait a long moment for a reply, and I almost set my phone aside when it finally buzzes.

 **Beaufort: Are you happy, Edythe?**

Am I happy? Well, that's as loaded a question as I've ever heard.

 **Edythe: I'm not 'not' happy. I guess I'm working on it.**

 **Edythe: Are YOU happy, Beau?**

 **Beaufort: Tonight, I am. Ask me again tomorrow.**

 **Beaufort: Goodnight X**

I sigh.

 **Edythe: Goodnight, Beau.**

* * *

I don't get around to asking her. School kind of takes over and I'm doing all I can to hold onto my sanity. Between attending classes, doing homework, keeping up with training, giving my girlfriend, my friends and family attention; I feel as if I'm being pulled in a hundred different directions. I once read this thing about how people manage to stay motivated, and I think it went, 'You have to hate life so much that you just want to get back at it,' or something ridiculous like that.

I get it, though.

Like, hate life so much that you want to prove it wrong.

At least Bella and I are in agreement about that. All our texts to each other consist of constant complaints about work, friends, and just how damn exhausted we are. If I wasn't so tired, I would probably find it amusing. All I know is I don't feel very 'happy' right now.

Also, I kind of get an answer to my non-question on a certain Thursday after Biology. We're let out early, and I head straight to my locker while Bella goes to meet with her lacrosse coach. Apparently, as unofficial, unnecessary and unwanted captain - she scoffs repeatedly at that - she's the liaison between the Department and her joke of an 'E' Team.

I've just gathered my books for my next class and shut my locker after the warning bell when Bella finds me. She's practically speeding my way, looking panicked about something as the corridor empties out.

"Shit, shit, Edward," she says, rushing her words.

"What? What's wrong?"

She grabs onto the front of my school shirt now that there's nobody around to see. "It's a travesty! Are they _trying_ to kill me? They're trying to kill me. That's what they're trying to do."

I raise my eyebrows. She's never acted like this before. "Bella, what are you talking about? What are they making you do?"

She sighs dramatically. "They're making me _play_ ," she says.

I frown. "Play? Play what?"

She shakes her head. "I was under the impression Waite is the only school in the State with _five_ girls' lacrosse teams, but apparently I was wrong."

It takes me a moment to catch on to what she's trying to tell me, and then I burst out laughing.

"This isn't funny," she says, stepping away from me.

I can't help it. "It _is_ a little funny, Bella," I say. "I mean, were you seriously expecting not to play a single game all year?"

"Umm, yes," she says. "Our coach _assured_ us that all we'd have to do was practice once a week, sometimes twice, and then we'd have to go and support the First Team at the National Tournament in May."

I shake my head. "Oh, Bella. Your ignorance is so adorable."

She huffs. "What am I going to do? Can I fake an injury? Would you injure me if I asked?"

I laugh. "What do you mean, what are you going to do? You're going to _play_ , Bella," I say. Then, more seriously: "Why on earth would _I_ be okay with hurting you?"

She frowns. "I _can't_ play."

"But you've been going to practices, haven't you?"

She drops her gaze. "Uh, most of the time, yes."

I lift her head by placing a finger under her chin. "What do you mean, 'most of the time?'"

She clears her throat. "Well, you see, Alice, Angela and I kind of figured out that Coach Urma doesn't really know the difference between all of us, so we kind of rotate our practices."

"Uh?"

"Basically, I go one week, Alice the next, and Angela the next, before we go around again."

I cover my eyes with my hand. "Oh, my God."

"They don't care about us," she says, as if it makes it any better. "We were _never_ supposed to play, Edward."

"That may be so, Bella, but you're playing now, and you're going to have to _not suck_."

"I do not suck."

Despite myself, I giggle, and am rewarded with a hard punch to the chest for my inappropriate thoughts. "Ouch," I say, rubbing my right pec muscle. "Sorry. Spent last night with Seth and Demetri," I add, as if that explains my head-space.

She frowns. "Who's Demetri?"

"New boy at the club," I inform her. "Got a killer butterfly kick."

She just nods. Then: "What am I going to do?"

"I suspect you have no choice but to play," I tell her. "I mean, it could be fun."

Her eyes narrow. "We both know it's not going to be fun, Cullen," she says tensely.

"I was referring to me," I say cheekily. "It's going to be fun for me to _watch_."

I receive another punch to my chest for my troubles. "You are _not_ allowed to be there," she says vehemently, though she must know it's pointless. I'm going to be there whether she likes it or not. I wouldn't miss the opportunity for the world. Seriously. Who does she think she's dealing with here?

"Who are you playing?" I ask.

"Like I even know," she says, huffing as her left hand reaches up to tug at the collar of her shirt. "Just wait. This is going to be the worst week of my life."

"Now, you're just being dramatic, Bella," I say with a shake of my head. "You said it yourself, right? It's just some random game they probably threw together because they felt bad that you won't get to play all season, so... It doesn't mean anything. Just enjoy it."

Her eyes narrow. "Do you actually _enjoy_ swimming?"

"It's my favorite thing to do," I reply easily.

She huffs again. Or is it a growl? "I think you're the wrong person to talk to about this. You, Jake and Jasper are all sports lovers. Angela and Alice _get_ me."

I laugh. She really _is_ being dramatic. "I can be sympathetic if you need me to," I offer; "but I'm being realistic as well. It's just, uh, thirty minutes of your life, and then you can continue to hate sports again."

"Won't I be able to hate sports _during_ the game?"

I shake my head as the second bell goes. "You, kid, are starting to give me a headache. Don't you have a class to get to?"

She shakes her head, her eyes mischievous. "I don't - do you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Lawrence isn't here today - didn't you hear? We have a free period next period."

"And that gives you license to make me late for _my_ lesson?"

She nods once, her fingers curling around my forearm. "Skip?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

She blinks in surprise, recoiling slightly.

"What?" I ask innocently.

"Uh, well, that's the first time that you've actually _called_ be your best friend. Out loud."

I frown. "Really?"

"At least from what I remember," she makes sure she says, so I can't tease her about it later. I'm convinced she's turning into an old lady, with all her forgetfulness, crabbiness and general lack of patience for the people of the world.

Idiots, she calls them.

I clear my throat. "Well, best friend, I have to go to class now," I say, stepping back slightly. Why are we standing so close anyway? "See you in French?"

She huffs. "If I don't die from anxiety before then," she says. "Maybe I'll go find The Clapp and tell him I'm injured or something."

"Bella," I say, touching her cheek with the fingers of my right hand. "I don't know what has you so freaked out about this lacrosse game, but I'm sure it's going to be okay."

She looks surprised by my sincerity, and I must have caught her off guard because she doesn't say a word. She just stares at me.

"Okay, well, we can talk later, okay?"

She waits a beat before she nods.

"Don't do anything rash," I tell her; "like throw yourself down some stairs or something." I realize it's the wrong thing to say a moment later, when her face drops.

What?

Wait, what?

Maybe this whole thing with Jake is affecting her more than she's willing to let on.

Or, maybe it's something else entirely.

I glance at my watch. Shit, I'm _so_ late. "Okay, now I've really got to go," I say, stepping forward and kissing her forehead.

"Make good life choices," she says as I walk away, absently glancing back at her.

"You're so weird," I say over my shoulder.

"But you still love me."

I don't reply. I just keep walking. _I_ was the first one to bring the word 'love' into our relationship. At the time, it'd been in a teasing manner, and I guess so is this one, but the more we tease it; the more comfortable we become with it.

Maybe that's the point, I don't know.

By the time she shows up at my house later, my mind has semi-settled over the word. She's one of my best friends. Of course, I love her. I also absently wonder if she's testing out the word with me because she can't bring herself to say it to Jake. I think it's something we should talk about, but I'm all too accepting of listening to her complain about how Coach Urma and the entire Waite Sports Department are trying to kill her.

"It's impossible to get out of it," she says around a mouthful of pizza. "And, you were right; they're only doing it because they feel bad that we haven't had a sniff of a competitive game. I mean, seriously."

I can only laugh. She's kind of adorable when she gets all worked up over things she can't control. "I'm sorry," I say, but I'm really not. I can't wait to watch her play. I don't care what I have going on at the time - I am _so_ going to be there. I'll even skip training if I have to. "But I want to help."

She raises her eyebrows in suspicion. "How?"

I grin at her. "Well, while I was at training, I asked Felix to pick up a few things for me," I tell her.

"What things?"

"Finish up," I say, gesturing towards her pizza. "I'll show you in a minute."

She looks at me suspiciously for a moment, before we both return to our dinner. I have to get down this pizza, extra pasta, my protein supplements and _Gatorade_. It's so exhausting just chewing. I swear, even my jaw is tired.

Unsurprisingly, Bella finishes before me and makes a point of watching me eat, with the sole intention of making me uncomfortable. She can be so weird sometimes. By the time I've eaten my last bite and drank my last sip, it's already after nine o'clock.

"Come on then," I finally say, slipping off my stool and putting out a hand.

She takes it without hesitation and allows me to lead the way out to the back of the house. She's only been in the backyard a handful of times but never really at night. Not that it looks like it's night anyway. The lights are so bright.

Bella's hand tightens around mine when she spots the lacrosse sticks and balls. "Edward?" she queries.

"I thought we could practice," I tell her, releasing her hand and rushing to retrieve two of the sticks and a ball. "Goodness knows you need it."

"I resent that," she comments.

I jog back to her and hand her a stick. "How many practices _have_ you gone to?"

She bites her bottom lip in thought. "Uh, I don't know."

"More than ten?"

"Definitely not."

I shake my head. "Oh, Bella, what am I ever going to do with you?"

She pouts. "Please don't make me do this."

"Come on," I say, stepping back; "it'll be fun."

"I think you and I have two entirely different definitions of fun," she mutters.

It's slow going, just getting started, but she grows into it. We just toss the ball back and forth at a steady pace until it picks up on its own. All of a sudden, I'm running left and right trying to catch the balls she lobs my way. I try to do my fair share, and we push each other until -

Bella runs to catch a ball and trips over her own feet, landing hard on the palms of her hands. We're on grass but she screams out, and I freeze for just a moment before I jump into motion.

"Oh, my God!" I run towards her. Well, I sprint - maybe I even fly, who knows? "Bella, oh my God! Are you okay? Oh shit! Shit shit shit! I'm so sorry. Does it hurt? Oh, my God!"

Whoever said Edward Cullen wasn't good in a crisis; they are so right.

Bella has tears in her eyes. Honest to God, tears. She's holding her arm up as it practically hangs limp and my heart drops into my stomach.

"Are you okay?" I ask again, dropping to my knees at her side. "Does it hurt?"

 _Obviously, it does. She's crying, Cullen_.

"Is it broken?" I ask.

"I don't think so," she finally says, swallowing thickly. "Maybe just sprained."

I blink. "We have to go to the emergency room."

She nods, her eyes drifting down to her arm.

I stand and take a breath, forcing myself not to panic. It's okay. She's going to be okay. I help her stand, and she sways slightly. "Easy," I say. "I've got you."

Somehow, we make it into the house, and I set her down on the couch in the living room. "Wait here," I say unnecessarily, before I rush around the house. Thank God Heidi's still here. She's going to have to stay with the twins.

I grab my wallet, keys, and phone, and pack Bella's bag before heading back downstairs.

"Okay," I say; "let's go."

Bella's more steady on her feet this time, and we get to the car without incident. She's quiet as I drive, which is good because I have to call my father. I explain to him what's happened but he and Esme are across the city, and it'll take them an obscene amount of time to get here. It's fine.

We'll call Bella's parents from the hospital. It sucks being a minor sometimes.

The emergency room isn't full, thank goodness. We only have to wait fifteen minutes before Bella's seen to, and she asks me to stay with her. Really, she looks so uncomfortable in the hospital that I don't dream of straying far.

In the end, the doctor on call, Dr. Hayes, decides that an X-Ray is unnecessary. Just from his examination, he can tell that it isn't a serious injury; just a minimal stretch of one of the ligaments, he says. She'll need to wear a splint for a few weeks, just to keep it still and help reduce the swelling and aid in the healing.

She looks less mystified by the news than I am. Maybe she's used to injuries; she did tell me she was prone to them as a child. She's awfully clumsy, apparently. I haven't had the privilege of witnessing her in action, but I believe her.

A nurse comes by to fit the splint and fiddles with the positioning until she's satisfied.

"How does that feel?" she asks Bella.

"Fine," she says, glancing at me.

The nurse nods. "You'll have to ice it when you get home," she says. "When the swelling goes down, you'll be able to adjust the splint."

Bella also nods.

"Will Mr. Hair over there be helping with the recovery?" she asks.

Bella coughs in surprise. "Uh, no," she says. "Probably not."

"He's done enough then, hasn't he?" The nurse gives me a significant look, and I drop my gaze, suddenly embarrassed. "Keep it elevated," she says to Bella. "And get plenty of rest. The doctor prescribed some painkillers, which you'll be able to pick up from the pharmacy."

Bella just nods.

"I'll just get your paperwork done, and then you can get out of here as soon as a parent arrives," she says, and then leaves us alone in the little cubicle.

I don't look at Bella until she bursts out laughing. "What on earth is so funny?" I ask incredulously.

"Your face, Edward," she says through her laughter. "You should have seen it."

"That woman is terrifying."

She nods in agreement. "Indeed, she is," she says. "I'll definitely keep it elevated, and get plenty of rest."

We fall silent again, and I take a step towards her; just wanting to be closer to her. God, I feel _awful_. "How's the pain?" I ask quietly.

She shrugs. "I've had worse."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," I mutter under my breath. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

"Edward," she says on a sigh. "Please stop. You've apologized more than enough. It's not even your fault, you know? And, I'm fine. It's just a little sprain."

She sounds so casual, as if this is just another day at the office. However, I don't miss the way she keeps looking around, as if she's expecting something more to happen. It's a little unsettling, but I'm not about to ask her what it's about. Most people don't like hospitals; it shouldn't be anything new.

And she just confuses me further when, a moment later, she bursts out laughing again.

"Jesus, Bella, just what is so funny?" I ask, slightly irritated.

She bumps my leg with her foot. "It's just, you know, in the end, you _did_ end up injuring me."

I stare at her with wide eyes.

"No lacrosse for me," she says with a smile, tilting her head to the side. "Edward Cullen, my hero."

It takes me a moment, but I eventually return her smile. "Anything for you, Bella Swan. Anything for you."


	15. You and I Will Land and Sea

**AN:** Again, thank you to my awesome beta, SunflowerFran. Sorry for the long wait between updates.

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: You and I Will Land and Sea  
**

 **BPOV**

"Why does she get to be in charge of the music?"

I roll my eyes. Sometimes, my friends can be such children. "Because," I tell Alice. "I don't want to listen to Top 40 _Pop_."

Alice huffs from her position in the back seat of my car. "I wasn't going to play just _that_ ," she says petulantly. "I mean, who wants to listen to Angela's Indie stuff anyway?"

"Yes," Angela deadpans, absently scrolling through the music on my iPod; "let's totally talk about me as if I'm not sitting right here."

"Who said that?" Alice asks, and we all burst out laughing.

When we grow quiet, Alice accepts her fate and sits back, finally clicking her seatbelt into place. I watch in my rearview mirror as she takes out her phone. _That's_ exactly why she's not in charge of the music.

"Jazz says he and Ben haven't even left yet," Alice says, grumbling the only way she knows how. "We're not going to get any fishing done if they don't leave soon."

"Are they waiting on Jared?" I ask.

"No," Alice replies, and her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. "Apparently, Ben invited his new girlfriend." She pauses to gauge my reaction, but my eyes are on Angela. If she's at all affected by the news that Ben has a girlfriend, I don't see it. Maybe her fingers tense around my _iPod_ but that's it, and that could mean any number of things.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, my eyes back on the road. "Who is she?"

"Jazz doesn't know much," Alice tells me. "Just that they met at the coffee shop where Ben works on the weekends. She goes to U-dub."

My eyes widen. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that _our_ Benjamin Oliver Cheney is dating a college girl?" I ask incredulously.

"I almost fainted when Jazz told me."

I can't help feeling a little slighted that I'm finding out about Ben's new girlfriend from Alice. I mean, I sit next to the boy in French class _every day_. One would think he'd find some way to work it into the conversation by now.

I assume he's been so tight-lipped about it because Angela is one of my best friends. Maybe it's because I still think he should have told her how he felt anyway. It's better to have it all out there so everyone can work through it together. That's the important part. All the secrets are just toxic.

Even as I say it in my mind, I can't help thinking about all the secrets I've kept from Jake, from Edward, and from Alice and Angela. It makes me feel like a hypocrite. Ignorance is bliss and all that, though there's very little bliss to be found _here_.

I force the thoughts from my mind and try to focus on the present.

Going fishing was actually my idea. I mentioned it at lunch last week - somewhat jokingly - and was surprised by the interest. Apparently, I have friends who are 'YES' people. My dad was all too keen to make sure we were prepared for what 'going fishing' truly entails. It's the first time he and I have actually had a conversation that doesn't involve school or family in such a long time, and it was a breath of fresh air.

We used to be closer back in Ohio.

Before everything.

Before I essentially forced him into taking a promotion that moved our entire family right across the country in order to get away from the _scandal_.

 _I_ did this to us.

Me.

No.

Not me.

It's not my fault.

None of it is.

It's _his_.

I blink hard and shake my head to force the memories away.

We're going fishing.

Today is going to be a good day.

I won't let it be anything less.

By the time Angela finally decides on a song, we're already halfway to our destination, according to the Navigation. It's _Supermassive Black Hole_ by Muse, and it's a collective 'ABA' favorite. We _love_ Matt Bellamy. It's been difficult to find songs we _all_ like, so, when we do, we _definitely_ overplay them until we're all sick of them.

Don't come at me with any Avril Lavigne, _please_.

I sort of invited Edward, mainly to see his reaction. His eyes almost popped out of his head before he mumbled something about swimming. It's not that he wouldn't want to come, I'm sure; it's just that mixing friends seems too scandalous. I don't even know what we were thinking by having him come to my birthday dinner. We're on the same page now. I'll go fishing with my friends.

Jake isn't coming, either. I invited him knowing he wasn't going to, and that's okay.

We're in a better place now, I guess. Who knew what spraining my wrist could do for my relationship? I mean, sure, I didn't have to play in the dreaded lacrosse game, but I also received piles of sympathy from my friends and my boyfriend.

It's been a few weeks now, and I have another visit - hopefully, the last - to the doctor scheduled to assess the healing. It feels fine. Fine enough to drive and go fishing, at least. Not nearly fine enough to return to lacrosse though. Hah.

Because we left first, we get to Elliot Bay Pier in Centennial Park before the boys do, which essentially allows Alice to get all her oohing and aahing out of her system before the fishing even begins. We walk through the park before taking a stroll along the length of the 400-foot pier as we wait, happily snapping pictures of Mount Rainier and downtown Seattle.

Alice practically squeals when she spots a seal, and it's hard not to laugh with - and at - her. She really is a special kid.

When the boys arrive, with Ben's new girlfriend in tow, Angela's mood shifts. I'm not sure what it is because she's never given any indication that she feels _anything_ about or for Ben. Maybe she's just wary of college girls?

Grace is a treat, though. I make the mature decision not to discuss my lack of knowledge about her with Ben until another time, but I'm definitely not letting him off the hook. I want to know why I was one of the last to know about this new development.

We gather our gear and make our collective way towards the pier. Jasper finds us a spot to set up, and we spread ourselves out.

"Did you remember the license?" Jasper asks me.

I roll my eyes in response. As if my dad would let me forget. "Did you remember the bait?"

He shrugs. "I just thought we could use pieces of Ben," he says, grinning at me.

"Start with the toes, huh?"

"I like your thinking, Swan."

We share a laugh, and Ben just looks horrified. "Hey, hey," he says; "nobody is going anywhere near my toes."

Jasper fakes a lunge. "I'll hold him down," he says to me; "go for the shoes."

Ben shrieks. Like, actually _shrieks_ , and then turns bright red. Serves him right.

"We have bait," Alice says, opening a cooler and taking a sniff. "God, that's gross."

Jasper laughs before he looks at Jared. "Well then, our resident fisherman, show us how it's done." I guess Jasper can see that Jared is a little uncomfortable, and his request seems to relax the 'stranger.' Even though I already know everything he's telling us - courtesy of Charlie Swan - I still follow along with the rest of the group as we get our rods ready and thread the bait.

"Five bucks says I catch the first fish," Ben says.

"My bet's on Jared," I say, smiling at both boys.

"It's definitely going to be me," Alice says.

"The way things are going; it'll probably be Angela," Jasper comments, and we all laugh. Angela's been very hesitant about this whole fishing thing. She came to spend time with her friends, sure, but she doesn't want to touch any of the bait, and I doubt she'll handle a fish all that better.

In the end, _I_ catch the first fish. It's a tiny little rockfish that I throw back into the water after Alice snaps a picture. I ask her to send it to me, before I send it to my dad, to Jake, and to Edward.

Unsurprisingly, Edward is the first to reply and, of course, he's talking smack. He's such an idiot sometimes.

 **Edythe: That's bite-size, Beau. I thought you said you were an expert.**

 **Beaufort: Shut up.**

 **Edythe: Did you name it?**

 **Beaufort: Marlin.**

 **Edythe: As in my father?**

 **Beaufort: I'm very impressed by your Disney knowledge.**

 **Edythe: I think I've watched Finding Nemo something like a hundred times just this year. Thank you for that, by the way.**

 **Beaufort: You're very welcome.**

Jared catches the next fish. It's a substantially sized salmon and Alice and Angela _freak out_. Grace catches a boot, which is hilarious. Alice's first catch is a squid. It's a cute little thing that she begs Jasper to let her take home. It's a hard no on that one. I'm surprised he manages it when she pulls out her puppy-dog eyes and dangerous pout.

I catch a pretty large lingcod. Well, in the end, it's actually a team effort because my wrist just can't handle it. The thing is massive. Now, _that's_ a picture I can't wait to send to my trio of men.

Jake is shocked. The fish is almost as big as I am, apparently. It's not, but it _is_ big.

Edward's response almost makes me drop my phone. The idiot.

 **Edythe: BRUCE! That's where you went!**

 **Beaufort: Actually, he's Chum.**

 **Edythe: That's just what he wants you to think ;)  
**

 **Edythe: Also, that's a fucking ugly fish.**

Funnily, it's smack-talker Ben who's the last one to catch anything, and it turns out to be a Dungeness crab.

 _Better than a boot_.

Grace is the one who says it and it makes me like her that bit more. It's clear to anyone who's looking that she and Ben are good for each other. They also seem to like each other in that completely genuine way. I didn't even know he'd given up on Angela. I'm not sure how to feel about _that_ part because, obviously, he didn't like her _enough_ to make sure she knew about his once feelings.

I feel a bit hypocritical again, and I can't really pinpoint _why_.

When it starts getting late, we begin packing up our gear at Jasper's suggestion. Before we leave, we get some ice cream and make the slow walk through the park once more. There's a bridge involved, and I feel sort of light and heavy at the same time. I can't really explain it.

It's been a good day.

A _great_ day.

Once we've loaded the two cars, some shuffling occurs. Alice wants to go with Jasper, which means Angela and I make the trip back to our area with Ben and Grace sitting in the backseat. I could let it get awkward - we're definitely headed there - but I don't.

I make a point to ask questions of Ben and Grace, and I call Angela out on her crappy song choices. She loves to point out that the 'crappy' songs she's apparently picking exist on _my_ _iPod_.

Traitor.

Because I'm a 'Speed Demon,' as Edward has so nicely dubbed me - a second nickname to Tinkerbell, I guess - we get to school before the others. It's the place we decided we'd leave from, and, according to Alice, they're still forty minutes out. Of course.

I text Edward while Angela broods and Ben flirts.

 **Beaufort: Come over for dinner?**

 **Edythe: But it's Saturday.**

 **Beaufort: Date night is canceled. Sam's brother's getting married and they're having a bachelor party that the ladies were not invited to.**

 **Edythe: That must have gone down well... How do you feel about that?**

 **Beaufort: I'm trying not to think about it.**

Which is the truth. I've been able to distract myself enough with fish and friends, and Jake _has_ been replying to my messages. It's fine. It's going to be fine. He's just going to have a bit of harmless fun, and I'll see him some time during the week. It's fine.

 **Edythe: I've never actually been to a wedding before. Have you? What are they like?**

I don't know if it's a conscious attempt to distract me, but it works. He's a truly gifted boy, that Cullen.

 **Beaufort: I've been to several, actually. Was even a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding three years ago.**

 **Edythe: PICTURES!**

 **Beaufort: I think you scored enough embarrassing pictures from my gran, thank you very much.**

 **Edythe: You can't see me but just know I'm pouting.**

I can just imagine the face he's pulling, and it automatically makes me smile.

"What's that?" Angela asks, and I'm forced to lift my gaze towards her.

"What?" I ask.

" _That_ ," she says, pointing at my face. "I've never seen it before."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"That look on your face," she says thoughtfully. "It's new."

I swallow nervously, before laughing it off and looking away. Has Edward really changed my facial expressions? That seems a little excessive, doesn't it?

 **Beaufort: But weddings are great. It's a day dedicated solely to celebrating a couple's love for each other, and I think that's a beautiful thing. It's stressful, sure, but most of the stress is worth it in the end.**

 **Beaufort: My favorite part is watching the groom right at the moment he sees his bride for the first time. It's beautiful. It's probably the best part.  
**

Edward doesn't reply right away. In fact, Jasper, Alice and Jared arrive and we head our separate ways before my phone even buzzes in my back pocket. Angela decides she's coming to visit me in the spur of the moment, and I let it be because she seems a little _off_ today. It might be about Ben or it might not. Alice makes sure to let me know I should keep her in the loop because it's obvious she's... worried, too.

I don't yet know if I will, though.

As soon as we get home, I head up to my bedroom. I so badly want to catch a nap, but, apparently, we're cooking fish today. I debate whether a shower will help with the fishy feeling on my skin but then realize I have to go into the hot kitchen anyway.

I huff, grab my phone, and then head downstairs.

 **Edythe: Will you take me to a wedding one day?**

I smile automatically, and then suddenly feel self-conscious about it now that Angela's seemingly noticed something that I wasn't even aware was there.

 **Beaufort: Definitely.**

 **Beaufort: Also, Angela's decided she's staying for dinner... do you still want to come over and we can give her a heart attack?**

 **Edythe: Haha, whoever said you weren't a good friend? But no, I won't be responsible for Angela's untimely death.**

 **Beaufort: You're a better friend than I. I'm sorry about dinner. I did want to see you!**

 **Edythe: Tomorrow?**

I smile.

 **Beaufort: Tomorrow.**

I pocket my phone and get _fishy_. We were taught how to clean fish properly when we were little and it's amusing to see just how grossed out Angela is by all of it. I'm even tempted to chase her around with a handful of fish guts, but I stop myself. That would be childish and, though I'm constantly failing at it, I'm trying to act like a grownup.

My mom makes mashed potatoes and Angela and I chop fresh vegetables to roast in the oven. My dad is a fan of roasted vegetables with olive oil, salt and Italian herbs. Riley hates the flavors, but they're not half bad.

By the time it's all ready, I'm starving. I snap a picture of the spread and send it to Edward and to our friend group chat, adding a comment that I expect to see their masterpieces as well. I guess we'll see.

For the first time in what feels like forever, we have a family dinner without the residual tension that's been flowing through our entire house. Maybe it's the fish; maybe it's Angela - who knows? I'm not complaining.

Speaking of Angela.

There's a reason she came over tonight, and I've decided it's best just to wait her out. She'll talk about it when she's ready.

It happens when we're in my room, both of us sprawled out across my bed. She's going through all the pictures she took today on her phone, and I'm searching for a decent movie for us to watch on my laptop. Her words catch me by surprise, but also don't.

"Grace seems nice," she comments, and my movements grow still.

"Yes, she does," I agree after a moment, my tone steady and even.

"Ben seems happy."

"Yes, he does."

She takes a deep breath, her eyes not once drifting from the screen of her phone. "I had this dream once," she says softly. "About Ben. We were in a kitchen I've never seen before, but it felt like it belonged to us. There was this bright sunlight coming in, and the wind was blowing so hard that the curtains were flapping wildly. I remember just standing there looking at him, and being able to hear the ocean waves and children's laughter in the background. He was looking at me as if there wasn't another person in this world. You know, he has that smile that's almost a secret, and he was smiling it at me." She falls silent for the longest time. Then, after a sigh, she murmurs, "But it was just a dream, wasn't it?"

I'm screaming inside. What do I do? What am I supposed to say? "Oh, Angela," I whisper, reaching out for her.

She allows me to take her hand. "I'm trying to find the perfect group photo to post," she says, as if she hasn't just revealed something important; something heartbreaking. "You're not looking at the camera in this one, but Alice has red eyes in this one."

I take a moment to try to assess what she needs from me at this moment. This is avoidance at its best, and who's the Queen of Avoidance?

 _I am_.

"Go with the one where I'm looking away," I say, squeezing her hand. "Alice will kill you if you pick one where she doesn't look her best."

Angela lets out a small laugh and finally looks at me. "Thank you, Bella."

"For what?"

She smiled slightly. "You know what."

I guess I do, but I really wish I didn't.

* * *

The rest of the school year goes by with little fanfare.

There's nothing monumental to write home about, save for the fact that my boyfriend is graduating from high school and going to the University of Washington. He'll still be around, which is great. He keeps telling me he chose to stay _for me_ , which just adds a certain kind of pressure to our relationship.

Well, to _me_ in our relationship.

I explicitly didn't ask him to do that, but even I know the full ride on offer was too lucrative to pass up.

I can tell he's waiting for me to tell him I love him. It's been months since his confession - surely, it's time. But I just can't bring myself to say it. I just _can't_. I don't know how; I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say.

It's to do with the past, sure, but it's also to do with my fear of the future. Jake is _a_ future; a possible one, that I'm not quite ready to accept. I was so _sure_ before - before... I just have to admit and accept that Edward Cullen is the reason.

It's no secret to me, and I wonder if it's a secret to him.

Which is why I take a step back. I mean, it's pretty easy to do with exams coming up and somehow working up the willpower to attend Jake's Senior Dance. The theme is Masquerade - Alice grumbles about how _original_ it is, but our school hadn't been any better, I don't think.

Unlike St Matthew's, Waite Academy holds their Senior Dance in December. Apparently, they worry that the students won't be able to focus on seeing the year through if they don't. Like, we're so hell bent on the dance that nothing else matters. My school is so stupid sometimes.

It also doesn't help that they hold it the weekend before exams. I guess it's one definite way to make sure we behave, but they're really horrible people sometimes.

Jake didn't actually _ask_ me to go with him. He just kind of assumed, which is natural, I guess. I _am_ going with him. I mean, I'm his girlfriend. It'd be weird if anyone else were to go with him, even though I'd happily send one of his sisters in my place. I don't want to dress up and be paraded around the way I know Jake intends to.

I also think he expects us to have sex afterward.

As far as I'm concerned, it's not happening.

He can try, but I'm certain the boy knows my limitations. They exist for a reason, and he knows exactly what that reason is. Honestly, I don't even know what I would do if he _tried_. Just how far would he go?

Alice takes me shopping because she loves living vicariously through me. I swear she's already planning for _our_ Senior Dance, which is at least six months' away.

So, Alice makes me try on what feels like a hundred dresses before we both agree on a strapless, royal blue dress that I actually _like_. Jake will have to wear a matching tie, of course, which we go searching for straight after.

I'm left to wonder why it's so important we get it right now, until the moment she finally mentions what she _thinks_ she's been seeing. She just wanted to prolong our trip, so she could bring up the _thing_ she's noticed.

"You don't actually want to go to this dance, do you?" she asks as we browse the millions of ties.

I suddenly find a certain style of tie very interesting in an attempt to buy myself some time. I don't even know how I'm supposed to answer that.

"But it doesn't actually have anything to do with the dance, does it?" she presses, and my movements still. "It's to do with _Jake_." She comes to stand right next to me. "Are you two okay?"

Now, _that's_ a loaded question if I've ever heard one. _Are_ we okay? He might be, but I'm definitely not. I don't think I've _ever_ been okay, and it's taken Edward in my life to recognize the truth of it.

"Bella?"

I turn to face her. "Look, I don't know what you want me to tell you, Alice," I start. "I know you don't like him."

"I don't," she agrees; "but I'm getting the feeling you don't either."

I blink. Is that the vibe I'm giving off? "I love him," I finally admit. I mean, of course, I do. Jake is it. I won't chance losing him. I can't afford to do that. Not after... _everything_.

Also, it's the first time I've ever actually voiced the feelings I've been trying to fight.

 _I love him_.

Him.

I love _Jake,_ and I'm in this with him.

If I weren't, then what have I been doing for the last eighteen months?

I reason that, if I didn't love Jake, then, well... _Edward_.

So, yeah, I love Jake... but sometimes I don't particularly _like_ him.

Alice is right about that, at least.

"Do you?" Alice questions.

I know Jake's and my relationship isn't as on show as hers and Jasper's is, but I bristle at the idea of her questioning my feelings for my boyfriend. I do enough of that myself.

Alice doesn't drop it. "Are you happy, Bella?"

I wouldn't say that I'm happy _all the time_ , but I have my moments. Moments that, more often than not, involve Edward Cullen. It reminds me of my priorities and all that. That person should _not_ be Edward, and I can't decide if it's a reflection on me, him or Jake.

"Bella?"

I blink. "This is the one," I say, reaching for a blue tie.

Alice regards me for a moment before she allows me the distraction. "That's more ocean than royal," she says - like I even care - and the previous conversation is forgotten.

Well, temporarily pushed aside. I'm under no illusions Alice Brandon won't eventually bring it up again.

When we're alone.

Which is why I do everything I can to make sure we're not. Jasper is attached to her by the hip most of the time, and Angela is more often than not attached to _me_. I don't really know why it is but I'm closer to both of them than they are to each other.

My mom thinks it's because they're too similar, but I'm not too sure. They _are_ alike, but they very rarely hang out just the two of them outside of class. It's either with me or not at all. If ever our trio is in pairs, I'm usually one of the two. I have no idea why.

Angela and Alice come over to help me get ready. There's makeup and hair, and jewelry and all of it kind of actually makes me a little bit excited. Maybe Alice can tell because she has that crazy glint in her eye that normally terrifies me. It's the kind of look that makes a person want to turn around, and walk in the entirely opposite direction.

"Wow."

It's the word that goes around.

First my friends, my family, Edward, via pictures, and then Jake.

 _Wow_.

Jake looks pretty handsome too if I don't say so myself. He looks _clean_. As my dad says, which is both awkward and hilarious. My mom snaps pictures, and Angela does too. I suspect one of them will end up as my wallpaper by the end of the night.

Jake and his friends hired a limo, and I'm the last pickup of the night.

Let the partying begin.

* * *

I reckon I hold onto myself pretty well while being the dutiful girlfriend I'm trying to be.

It's actually a fun night, I won't lie.

Which is probably the reason I end up forgetting.

I forget the night is going to end.

I forget Jake is Jake and he's a little bit drunk, and there are hands and tongues tangling, and buttons and zips that are begging to be undone.

But, he surprises me.

We take the limo to the club hosting the after party, and it's an acrobatic act trying to get dressed into our second outfits _inside_ the limo. I'm sure, at some point, I elbow Sam's date, Emily, in the ribs.

We dance. Like, dance _dance_. Every song. And, between songs, we make out.

I feel young and carefree, and it's the first time in a while I actually enjoy spending time with Jake and his friends. I didn't know that Embry was so funny, Sam so cheeky or Paul so endearing. Maybe it's because their dates are around, but they aren't as crazily rowdy as they usually are.

By four o'clock, I'm exhausted. My feet ache from the heels and all the dancing, but I don't want it to end.

It's going to.

Of course, it is.

The idea is for us to crash at Paul's house. All of us. I've never been to his house before, but Jake and I end up with our own room. We all do, sort of. Sam and Emily get the pool house, Paul's in his own room, and, because Embry's date had to go home, he's got the couch in the living room.

Like I said, Jake surprises me.

He asks me what _I_ want; what _I'm_ comfortable with. He knows there are things I won't do. Or, rather, have done to me. He's kind and understanding and I love him. I do.

I'm sure I do.

Which is what I tell him moments before I kiss as much of him as I can manage. His hands travel over my body as my mouth moves over his. It's the silent deal we've made that's safe - for us both - and mutually pleasurable.

"You love me?" he asks when we settle in to sleep the two hours we're probably going to get before I'm expected home.

I nod, as I relax into him. He's burning hot, which is a little uncomfortable at first but I'll get used to it. "I l-love you."

He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, skin to skin. "I love you too, Bella."

For some reason, I get that feeling of being light and heavy at the same time, and I still don't know how that could be. It's oddly suffocating, and I can't help feeling as if I've tied myself to something for which I'm not ready.

The feeling I've made a mistake sits worryingly on my brain, but I can't take it back now. The words are out there, and there's nothing to be done.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispers, and I can hear him slipping into sleep.

I just about manage to convince myself I'm pretty glad too.

Sleep doesn't come easily.

* * *

I don't know why I let Alice talk me into going to Mike's party. She comes over in the late afternoon, dragging Angela along, and I'm forced to spend an obscene amount of time trying to make myself look Alice-approved. I'm not really in a celebrating mood, but Alice just ignores my protests. She wants to go to this party, and now we're all going.

Edward's going to be there.

Jake isn't. He decided that, now that he's a high school graduate, he won't be going to high school parties anymore. I mean, I guess I should be grateful for small mercies, but I still get the feeling it's going to be a terrible night. I just know it.

We get to Mike's house early. I mean, it's almost ten o'clock, but the party's just getting started.

The second we step through the front door, Alice heads off to find Jasper, and Angela and I are left to grumble over the reason why she forced us to come when she was just going to be with her boyfriend the whole time.

I probably would have been with mine.

And Angela would be -

She's been rather subdued since we met Grace. I was forced to explain the gist of the situation to Alice because neither of us would have heard the end of it. Angela hasn't said anything more to me about Ben since that night. Maybe we all need the summer to recover from this year.

I know I do.

"Drinks?" Angela asks me, getting my attention.

I just nod as we head towards the kitchen. We know the drill now. Well, _she_ does. We get our own drinks, the sealed variety. We may both be a year older - she's now seventeen - but she's still father and God-fearing, and I'm just terrified of what _can_ happen when I drink.

In public, at least.

So, I get a can of _Coke,_ and she gets a can of _Red Bull_. I actually wanted a _Gatorade_ , but hey. Apparently, Mike is too cool for that kind of beverage. He should know better, really.

The beginning of the night isn't exactly terrible. Angela and I mingle, talking to friends and also not-friends. Most people get friendlier the more they drink, so we have quite a few amusing conversations. We also do a bit of dancing. As surprising as it is, Angela is actually more uncoordinated than I am, which is saying something. Still, it's safe and easy fun.

It goes well until Angela goes to the bathroom, and comes back wearing a disgruntled pout.

"What?" I ask. She flops down onto the couch beside me and leans in to whisper into my ear. I cringe slightly, and then smile in sympathy. I pat her leg once, and then rise to my feet. "Stay here," I say. "I'm on it, okay?"

I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to do to help with this situation. This is _Mike's_ house, and, as far as I know, he doesn't have a sister.

Alice is no help, and neither is Grace - who, apparently, isn't too cool for a high school party.

Honestly, I hate being a girl sometimes. More often than I would care to admit.

It's almost inevitable that I encounter Edward during my search, and he surprises me when his hand settles on my shoulder as I'm power-walking through the kitchen. I spin around, ready to glare at whoever is daring to touch me, but all my ire dissipates at the sight of him.

"Hi," he says when his eyes focus on me.

"Hi back," I breathe, relieved to see him. This entire night just feels like it shouldn't be happening.

"Everything okay?" he asks in that knowing way that he does.

I huff. "Not really," I admit.

"Can I help?"

I so badly want to step into his arms and just stay there, but I control myself. Sort of. "Well, you don't happen to have a tampon, do you?"

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't recoil. Not like most other boys do when you even so much as mention women's menstruation. "Uh, no, I don't have a, uh, tampon," he says, awkwardly fumbling over his words. "But I could probably find you one, if you'd like."

Always full of surprises, this Edward Cullen.

"Uh, that would be great," I say.

"Okay," he says with a nod. "I'll text you when I find something." His left hand reaches out to touch me in some way, but he stops it in midair. We're not in his house. There are people everywhere. He offers me a sheepish smile and a head-shake before he turns and starts to walk away.

"Hey, Edward?"

He turns back. "Hmm?"

"Thank you," I say.

His smile is a little more real now. "I'm really glad you came tonight," he tells me.

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I get to see you."

"Hmm, because we've hung out so much tonight."

He shakes his head. "See, that's where your problem is, Swan. You came out expecting a bad night, and now that's what you're going to get."

"Saves me the disappointment."

"Pessimist."

"I'm a realist."

He shakes his head in amusement. "I'm never going to win with you, am I?"

"Go find my tampon."

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a mock salute, and I just watch him disappear, accepting that Edward Cullen is the only bright spot in this forgettable night. I mean, what makes me think I can even survive life without him? Just staying away from him puts me in a foul mood, and how can I? He's so _good_ in the truest way. How could anyone dream of trying to avoid that?

I get myself another drink, and then go back to the living room, dropping down onto the couch next to Angela.

"Are you okay?" she asks me. "You look, uh, flustered."

I frown. "Flustered?"

She nods. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I tell her. "Just, you know, been looking for a - "

"Oh, right, thanks."

The text comes from Edward four minutes later, and I immediately stand, excusing myself. "I'll be right back." I make my way back to the kitchen and find Edward getting himself some punch. He must know it's spiked, but I don't say anything. What can I say? This is a boy who is so in control of his own life and his own body; he's highly capable of making his own decisions.

I move to stand next to him. "Hey, you," I whisper.

He startles slightly, and then smiles at me. "Wotcher, Bella."

I frown. "Wotcher?"

He just shakes his head, which means I've definitely missed something. It must be _Harry Potter_ related. "I've got your package."

I laugh, despite myself. "Do I even want to know where you got it?"

He shakes his head. "Probably not," he says, laughing. "I actually found you _two_."

I cover my eyes with my hand. "And just what reason did you give for needing two tampons?"

"Does it matter?"

I shake my head. "You know, it actually doesn't."

For a moment, his gaze meets mine, and I feel warm and cold at the same time. So gently - I barely feel it - he slips the tampons into my hand, and then he leaves. Just like that.

A moment later, my phone buzzes.

 **Edythe: You're welcome.**

Idiot.

I go back to find Angela, and any further crisis is averted.

But.

It's almost comical how the night just goes to shit.

I mean, I almost expect it, so I'm not surprised.

Doesn't mean I like it.

I head to the bathroom at some point, leaving Angela on the couch with Jessica and Lauren. They sort of get on, so I don't feel like a terrible friend. I mean, I really do need to pee, and, of course, the line is acres long.

Five seconds away from dancing to keep my bladder from bursting, I reason it's safe to head upstairs to find an empty one, which is a mistake.

A massive, huge, irreversible mistake.

I've been upstairs before, so I think I remember where to go.

I don't.

Well, I mean, I _do_ , but I kind of encounter something else on my way. It's a sound I know all too well, and it catches me off guard. I freeze because there's no other response. I mean, what am I supposed to do?

I wait another beat before I take out my phone and dial Edward. It goes to voicemail after several rings, and I stutter through a quick message. "Come up - upstairs," I say. "I - uh, I - _please_." My hand is shaking when I eventually hang up and take steady steps towards the closed door. I don't know what I intend to do. What _can_ I do?

The decision is taken away from me when I hear a scream, the sound of a hard slap and then heavy feet. The door flies open, and I come face to face with none other than Alec Marcus. He looks disheveled, and his left cheek is burning red.

"You," he says, surprised.

I ignore him and look past him into the room where I spot a girl I've seen a handful of times: Irina Smith. She recognizes me the moment I recognize her and her face changes from shock to _something else_.

"Don't say anything," Alec hisses at me, grabbing my arm.

I automatically step back. "Stay away from me," I say, and Alec sneers.

"Don't say a word," he repeats; "or else."

I glare at him.

"Remember," he says; "I know who your brother is."

That makes my eyes narrow.

"Don't forget," he says coldly before he pushes past me.

Irina straightens herself out and then moves towards me, coming to a frazzled stop. "Don't tell anyone about this." It isn't a request, but I won't tell anyone anyway. Who would I tell? I don't even know if my mouth could form around the words anyway.

All I can really do is stare at the open door and wonder what could have happened behind it.

A moment later, I feel him standing behind me. There are tears in my eyes, but he can't see them, and I'd rather keep it that way. It takes me a moment to realize that seeing my tears means nothing because Edward can _hear_ them. It's too late for me to hide. I know it the moment his hands slip around my waist and he pulls me to him.

"Edward," I whisper, fighting off more tears.

"I've got you," he whispers back, and his breath is hot against the skin of my neck. "I've got you," he repeats, and I have no choice but to believe him.

I relax into him, soaking up all the warmth and comfort he willingly gives.

He's saying so much without saying the words.

I know I have to get out of his arms.

I have to work up the strength and escape his comfort.

This isn't good.

This is bad.

But it feels so right.


End file.
